The Beginning of Romance
by Falling Further
Summary: Everyone knows that the most interesting and perhaps important part of a love affair is the beginning. This is a story about a love triangle. That's right. Brunette v Donut v Blonde. Moliver, Loliver, love, laughter, tears, ... Jackson? Wait, what?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana, and this work of fiction was written as an act of catharsis with no hope of profit.

Author's Note: I have watched at most ten different episodes of Hannah Montana, so my knowledge of the series is definitely incomplete. Please forgive any inconsistencies between the show and this work and chalk them up to ignorance on my part. If they are really glaring, please write them up in a review and I will do what I can to fix them. This chapter was written in one sitting from 2:00 to 7:00 am. It is set after the group is in high school, maybe sophomore year. I don't really need to nor want to set that in stone yet. I apologize for my long-windedness. It's an unavoidable aspect of my writing.

* * *

Oliver leaned his back against the doorframe leading to the porch as he waited for Miley to finish changing. They had been at the beach with Lilly when the rain started, so their plan to hang out at the beach had transformed into a trip to the mall. The trip was experiencing the slight delay because the girl in the other room didn't feel like going to the mall in a wet, white t-shirt even if the boy currently watching her brother make a fool of himself had assured her with a semi-straight face that her bra was not visible through the light blue half-sweater she had been wearing. That assurance had earned him a light slap on the face since he had started it with, "It's really a shame …"

Jackson's current method of foolishness was playing Dance Dance Revolution on the living room television. The boy had all of the enthusiasm necessary for a hardcore player but lacked the dancer's grace. Feeling feisty, Oliver suddenly called out, "It has two dances in the title for a reason, Jackson. It's not stomp, stomp like you're playing whack a mole with your feet revolution."

Not even bothering to look over his shoulder, Jackson answered between hops, "Come show me what'cha got then, donut boy."

Oliver took a hesitant step towards the unoccupied pad, but then thought better of it and went back to the doorframe. Back in his comfortable position, he responded, "I don't want to get all sweaty."

This was met by an immediate, punctuated laugh from Jackson. The song had ended by the time Oliver's weak excuse came out, and Jackson was standing with his back turned to the screen, admiring the soaked clothing of the waiting boy. "You're already covered in rain. Who's going to notice a couple more drops here and there?"

This made perfect sense to Oliver. He was making his way towards the pad when an arm shot out behind him and dragged him back towards the doorframe. The sweet, southern voice that haunted his dreams called out, "Uh uh, hun. I ain't walking round the mall with a boy that smells like a used pair of socks."

"Aww, come on Miles. It's not like he's your boyfriend or nothing. Let the boys fight it out a bit, dancing style!" Jackson accentuated his challenge by taking the crane kick stance from the Karate Kid. Unfortunately Jackson's legs were more tired from his stomping than he had imagined so his flying crane looked more like a lame duck and lasted only a few seconds before he toppled over onto the unused mat to his left.

After nearly joining Jackson on the floor from laughter, the two teenagers regained their composure and were headed to the exit. There were a variety of umbrellas to choose from in the closet next to the door, and Oliver crossed his fingers hoping that Miley was feeling lazy and would allow them to share one big one. His heart dropped when she began coming out of the closet with two umbrellas. At the last moment, however, she turned back into the closet and chose a green, pin-striped golf umbrella which she tossed to Oliver. The boy caught the umbrella lightly and twirled it triumphantly to the bemusement of Miley.

Their escape from the house was halted when Jackson croaked out from his position on the mats, "If Mr. Drowned Rat beats me in a round, I'll drive you guys wherever you're about to go."

With deceptive strength for her lithe frame Miley wrenched the umbrella from Oliver's grasp and shoved him in the direction of the dance pads. It took all of Oliver's balance to keep from falling on top of the still sprawled out Jackson. Seeing that the challenge was on, Jackson quickly got up and made a welcoming gesture towards the pad to his right. A devious smirk had worked its way onto Jackson's face since he alone knew the secret that the second pad had been slightly damaged from repeated stomping.

If someone had been watching only the players as they moved to the music they would have assumed that Oliver had won the round. His moves were fluent and flashy with his knees and hands entering into the arrow pressing action. His upper body was also getting into the music; the shoulder, arms, and hands moving rhythmically to the beat. When Miley looked up at the final score screen, however, it showed a B for Jackson and a C for Oliver.

As soon as the scores were displayed, Jackson turned towards Oliver and began flexing his muscles at him. "Well, well, well. Looks like the whack-a-mole feet stomped on a donut!" He accented his taunt by hopping up and down while still flexing, a motion so ridiculous looking that in spite of the fact that they were going to have to walk through the rain Miley was still laughing when they finally left the house. Oliver was also smiling as they huddled together under the umbrella, but for an entirely different reason. It wasn't every day that he had a reason to be this close to the girl of his dreams.

As the rain crashed against their umbrella Miley suddenly complained, "I can't believe you lost to Jackson. Don't you usually get AA's at the arcade?"

Oliver did his best to keep his eyes looking straight ahead. Lying to Miley wasn't something he was capable of doing while she was looking him in the eyes. "It's just really different going from the arcade to the home version."

After hearing that response an adorable frown formed on Miley's face, and as soon as Oliver spotted it his gaze became dangerously fixated on her. Miley eventually felt his eyes on her and self-consciously asked, "Is there something on my face?"

Feeling a blush creep up on his cheeks, Oliver forced himself to look forward again as he stated as nonchalantly as he could manage, "I just noticed you're still frowning."

Miley shrugged slightly at that. "I just can't shake the feeling that Jackson was cheating somehow. He had the, "I'm cheating" smirk on his face when ya'll started."

Oliver only managed to answer with a shrug of his own. He dared not voice a blatant lie of this magnitude. The truth was that he had noticed at the beginning of the first song that the right and bottom arrows of the pad required harder stepping than usual. Even if the pad had worked perfectly, however, he would have still thrown the game. As a man stuck in the position of best friend to a girl that he was in love with, he had to fight for every opportunity to be with her in an intimate situation like this.

This held especially true when the girl had a boyfriend like Jake Ryan.

* * *

Like it was on any other rainy weekend, the mall was packed to the rafters. After entering the mall, Miley used Oliver as a riot shield as she pushed him from behind to break up the crowds. Oliver took the beatings from the different people he ran into and the belongings they seemed to be deliberately swinging at his head with a dreamy smile on his face, intensely aware of the hands pushing him forward from behind.

By the time they finally reached the food court where they had planned to meet Lilly, Oliver was sporting bruises on a wide variety of spots on the front of his body. They quickly spied Lilly who unashamedly jumped on top of the table she had saved for the trio and began waving her arms frantically as soon as Miley called her cell phone. After a brief reprisal of Oliver's role as human riot shield they were seated at the table.

"It's really crowded, Lilly," stated Oliver as he looked around the crowded dining area. He continued with his line of thinking by asking, "How did you manage to get a table with three empty seats?"

Lilly smiled her big, innocent smile as she answered, "Oh, nothing out of the ordinary. Toss a flirtatious wink here, shove a few people there, grease a palm or two, and boom!"

Miley raised an eyebrow at her friend. "Grease a palm, Lilly? Since when do you have extra money to bribe people with?"

Lilly laughed at the question before answering, "Who's talking about bribing? I "accidentally" rubbed a greasy palm on this prissy girl's shirt and she ran screaming to the bathroom, leaving her seat open for the taking by Mall Law."

After groaning, Miley stood up. "I'll go grab something to eat, then. You two stay here so that Lilly doesn't have to grease up anyone else." Ignoring the pout from Lilly, Miley walked towards the Saladworks.

While Miley was gone, Oliver began checking how many injuries he had sustained since entering the mall. After he hit ten he decided that he didn't really want to know. Lilly's voice interrupted his physical inventory by asking, "Those are some nasty bruises. Did you go street surfing after we split up or something?"

"More like Miley went crowd surfing using me as the board, again," complained Oliver. His body slumped forward on the table, his head resting on top of his folded arms in an attempt to use as little energy as possible.

Lilly adopted a similar posture, but her chin was rested on her arms and her eyes were looking at the top of the boy's head. After a moment of awkward silence, Lilly suddenly asked, "So how long are you going to let her use you like this, Oliver?"

With his head still in its resting position, his eyes focused on a toddler who was sitting a couple of tables away happily tearing apart his burrito with a spork, Oliver answered, "We're best friends. She can use me however she needs to."

Lilly returned, "Let me rephrase the question, then. When are you going to give up on her, Oliver?"

This question caught his attention. He suddenly sat straight up and looked directly into Lilly's clear, blue eyes. Somehow, she knew the secret he had been keeping for years. After checking the area around them furtively he asked, "How did you know?"

Lilly rolled her eyes at the boy before answering, "I'm not stupid, Oliver. I'm one of your best friends, and I see how you are and what you are willing to do when Miley's around. It's not the same as when you're around me, that's for sure."

Panic seemed to have overtaken the boy's face. His eyes were continuously scanning the area for invisible intruders, and all of the color had left his cheeks. In a serious voice he questioned in a forced whisper, "Does Miley know?" The slight shake of Lilly's head returned peace to Oliver's world. He slumped backwards into his chair, drained of all emotion. His eyes locked back onto Lilly's as he asked, "Why did you have to bring that up all of a sudden?"

There was a slight hesitation from Lilly as she broke eye contact with Oliver. After a pregnant moment of silence her answer came out quickly as, "I'm just tired of seeing you waste your time and body on a ship that's already sailed. I mean, she has a boyfriend. Heck, she has THE boyfriend." Lilly sighed dramatically at her own mental picture of Jake Ryan.

"Yeah, well THE boyfriend is never around," stated Oliver. "And while he's away, Miley relies on me for most of her guy needs."

Lilly raised her right eyebrow at the boy. "She may rely on you for most of her needs, but definitely not all."

Oliver frowned slightly at this, but he wasn't about to back down from the way of life that he had chosen for the past couple of years. "This is enough for me. I get to be around Miley all of the time and continue to be her best friend. We're way closer than your average couple." It seemed funny to him how defeated those words sounded when they were spoken out loud.

Lilly shrugged her shoulders dramatically as she said, "Whatever you say, Smokin' Oken." In a suddenly bright and loud voice she shouted, "My turn to grab some grub!" In a motion as bright and loud as her voice had been, she sprung up from her seat and offered it to the approaching Miley. As she walked off towards a hamburger stand she called over her shoulder, "Save the seat I fought for!" She was 15 feet away before she turned around and yelled, "If that girl comes back, there's some grease under the table!"

As Miley sprinkled ranch dressing over her salad she noticed that Oliver looked especially drained as he slumped in the chair across from her. Feeling slightly concerned she asked, "Are you okay, Oliver?"

Her voice alone seemed to snap him to attention. His posture corrected itself and light seemed to return to his eyes. In his normal voice, he lied, "Yeah, I'm fine, just a little hungry."

"Oh, are you sure? Were you and Lilly talking about something weird?" she asked as she began shaking her salad in its container.

"No, we definitely weren't talking about anything weird," he remarked offhand as he stared directly into Miley's blue eyes. There definitely wasn't anything weird about being in love with a girl as beautiful as the one sitting across from him, calmly eating a salad. The soft glow of the food court lights threw playful shines against her dark brown hair, and not for the first time Oliver thanked God that he was allowed to be in her presence.

He was happy to be her best friend. After all, it allowed him to hear her candid thoughts about the world unfiltered by the lie inducing drug known as love. She shared all of her secrets with him, and he could take it if a few of those secrets were centered on another guy. The guy she proclaimed to the world as her boyfriend. It could be a lot worse, after all. He was happy.

Wasn't he?

* * *

Sorry for the cliche ending, but I need to go to bed. Thanks for reading. I will see some of you next time. 


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: I have been warned by a reviewer that the next section of text isn't worth reading. Feel free to skip up to the next divider if you aren't a fan of cheesy science fiction and kung fu parodies. It shouldn't have any effect on your understanding of the story. I added it at the last second and apparently got a little carried away.

* * *

Jake Ryan tiptoed through the foggy swamp dramatically, his thighs rising to his hip before crashing to the ground with an audible splash. His blaster traced wide arcs in the air, threatening the thick, all encompassing fog with a random laser beam from any angle at any moment even if his face and eyes seemed to be ignoring everything other than whatever was directly in front of him. 

Suddenly a sharp bark erupted through the air. Jake immediately jumped a foot in the air and landed in a crouching position, his blaster rising steadily to his face in a semi-ready position. Speaking softly to himself, he said, "I'm lost in a foggy swamp trying to find Demon Dog and his dog-nappers. I can't see anything so these amazing muscles are useless!" The frustration was prominently displayed on his face; his mouth almost curled into a snarl and his perfectly sculpted eyebrows knit closely together. "Wait a second, I trained for this," he stood suddenly and looked up into the sky as the memory overtook him, "in China!"

An image of his training under Supremely Short Hidden Bottle Fallen Drunk Master of China the eighty-first suddenly appeared before him. The sun was beating down on his half-naked body as he moved around the dirt arena cautiously. Normally these spars would be no problem for his finely trained, zombie killing body but today the master had forced him to wear a deep black blindfold. From behind a voice called out drunkenly, "Re … remember Jahake." There was a slight pause here while the master hiccupped. "Eyes are but one sense of four. Wait, six. I mean five, but seven is also a possibility."

After spinning around to throw a violent punch that connected with nothing but air, Jake furrowed his brow asked, "You mean like earth, water, wind, fire, and heart? Go Planet!" His recitation of the Captain Planet opening theme was interrupted by a deep groan and suddenly one of the master's hidden bottles hit him in the stomach.

The master thoroughly drilled him in the full use of his senses that afternoon. The smell training turned out to be particularly awful since the master had eaten plenty of beans for breakfast in preparation.

Back in the swamp and armed with his memories of his sensory training, Jake began doing everything that he could think of to locate his canine sidekick. No matter how hard he tried, he wasn't able to get the fog into his mouth, so taste was out. For his next attempt he began taking mighty sniffs of air to pick up some kind of scent, but that only caused him to emit a ferocious sneeze. He then tried feeling around through the fog, but he was only able to come up with a tree that was shaped suspiciously like a zombie.

The realization of what had to be done finally hit him like a ton of bricks, and the face that had been clenched and squinting as he had gone through his various senses transformed into a picture of serenity. Standing up straight and tall with his arms opened wide as though he were trying to embrace the fog, Jake bellowed out, "Demon Dog, bark again so I know where to shoot!"

Unfortunately for Jake, he had turned his back to the "tree" and did not notice the bark covered zombie approaching him from behind!

* * *

"I don't understand what Miley sees in this idiot," complained Oliver as he reached for the popcorn. His hand was quickly slapped away. 

"I don't understand how you can't see what she sees. They just showed him half naked and all kinds of sweaty! I am so gonna buy this DVD," sighed Lilly as she reached for the popcorn. Her hand was quickly slapped away.

"I don't understand why you two are in my house, trying to eat my food, and watching a DVD on my entertainment system, while my daughter is out on a date!" howled Robbie Ray as he again fended off the popcorn thieves by slapping at both of their hands.

Lilly furrowed her brow suddenly as her hand was again rejected. "Whose DVD is it anyway? I thought Miley didn't own any of Jake's works on principle."

Robbie Ray coughed suspiciously and said, "I think it's Jackson's." As the two teenagers bombarded him with quizzical stares, he quickly added, "He said it was for research."

The trio was seated on the living room couch of the Stewart household. Robbie Ray had a bowl of freshly made popcorn placed on his lap and was sandwiched between the two grabby teenagers. The man was rapidly losing the battle for his popcorn as the duo began teaming up on him. The hands were coming too fast and from too many directions for Robbie Ray to stop them all. By the time that Zombie Hunter Jake had managed to chop down the second zombie tree, half of the popcorn had disappeared. Staring forlornly at his dwindling bowl of popcorn, Miley's father realized that something had to be done.

"Alright, that's it. Ya'll have to go!" exclaimed Robbie Ray as he stood up and began ushering the teens outside of his household. As he had expected, it took longer than usual to eject them from the house. Robbie Ray had learned long ago that when Oliver and Lilly were working as a team it was like fighting a demon with two bodies. While you were occupied with one, the other was dancing around causing mischief. Then when you had had enough and turned around to deal with the mischief causing one, the now liberated demon immediately took up the reigns of havoc.

As he closed the porch's window door on the pair they put up a valiant, last ditch effort. Lilly turned on her puppy dog face and would have earned their way back inside if Oliver hadn't attempted to copy Lilly. The boy looked so ridiculous with his squinting brown eyes looking up at him from under his long brown bangs as his lower lip extended and quivered that it broke the enchantment of pity Lilly's face had created. "Go do something outside! It's nice outside!" shouted Robbie Ray through the locked, double-paned glass window. After turning to look at each other, the pair grinned inexplicably and scattered off of the porch.

The man paused a moment to think about what just happened, but eventually decided to let it go and get back to watching the baseball game like he had originally intended. Panting slightly from the effort of expelling the teens, Robbie Ray turned around and was greeted with an unexpected, then an unpleasant sight. The unexpected sight was that the television was now tuned into some cartoon show, and his son Jackson was glued to the screen. The unpleasant sight was that his bowl of popcorn lay empty on the table in front of the television.

Jackson reacted instinctively before he consciously realized that his dad had yelled out his full name. He was already halfway up the stairs to the second floor before his mind caught up and he was able to yell at his chasing father, "What did I do, daddy? What did I do?!"

* * *

Lilly and Oliver walked down the street happily chomping on the popcorn that they had managed to load into their pockets while Robbie Ray was chasing them out of the house. Miley's dad hadn't been lying when he said it was nice outside, so the pair just allowed their legs to take them wherever they were going to take them. There had been no verbal discussion about this plan, but when two people knew each other as long as they had known each other a slight nod of the head and an accommodating shrug could be just as effective. 

They found themselves following a path that they had already taken before, which wasn't unusual considering that they had scampered together through virtually the entire town at some point in time. This particular path was one they had frequented when they were still attending middle school. It began at the middle school, stopped by an abandoned field that they had spent many an afternoon running around on, and ended up on the boardwalk where they would be able to grab some dinner.

The middle school looked exactly the same as it had been when they were younger, albeit smaller than they remembered it. As they approached the building, what immediately stood out to the pair was colorful artwork of the students that plastered the classroom windows with bright and bold shapes. After some coaxing from Lilly, Oliver agreed to join her in some light trespassing to check out and make use of the small playground that lay hidden from the world thanks to the school and its towering fences. Their bodies were bigger than they had been when they had made use of the facilities years ago, but the sound of their laughter was almost identical.

After being chased off of the grounds by the same old, angry custodian who had been taking care of the school when they had been in attendance, Oliver and Lilly continued on their way. Oliver could tell that Lilly was excited to see the field from the change in her gait. She had mixed in some skipping, and would frequently pull ahead and then be forced to wait impatiently for him with her hands on her hips and her right foot tapping rapidly. When they were about a block away from the field the girl burst into a sprint, leaving the boy coughing in a cloud of dust. Despite his dusted lungs, Oliver grinned and chased after his best friend. He wasn't prepared for what was awaiting him.

The first thing he noticed as he approached the corner that led to the field was that Lilly was standing motionlessly. His concern forced him to run faster than he had been, and soon he was standing next to Lilly staring at their "not-so-abandoned" field. It had been their secret sanctuary when they were younger; a grassy, unkempt field that no one seemed to know about except for the two of them. Apparently someone had known about it though, for they were in the process of erecting some kind of building on top of it. It was impossible to tell what kind of building was being built since they had only managed to lay down the initial foundation as well as cover most of the field with building materials.

Feeling slightly saddened by what he was seeing, Oliver turned towards Lilly prepared to remark that the situation sucked. The tears rolling unhindered down Lilly's cheeks caught him off guard. Oliver couldn't remember the last time he had seen tears falling from her big, blue eyes, but he realized in an instant that he never wanted to see them again. Placing his right arm over her shoulders, he softly whispered in her left ear, "Hey, Lilly, its ok. Stuff like this happens. Things change."

Lilly began moving as soon as she heard his first cliché sentence, and by the time Oliver had finished speaking her head was buried in his chest as her arms wrapped tightly around his lower back. The boy felt the warm tears beginning to soak the front of his shirt, and heard the soft weeping sounds emanating from the girl in front of him. Feeling like it was the most natural thing in the world to do Oliver wrapped his arms around the girl and waited patiently for her to cry it out.

The tears continued to flow for a good ten minutes but even after the tears had dried Lilly continued to hold onto Oliver. While this was slightly due to how good it felt to be held in his arms, it was mostly due to the fact that her face was bright red at the moment and she definitely didn't want him to see. Mistaking her reluctance to let go as embarrassment at having cried in front of him, Oliver quickly surveyed the area taking note of the lack of workers in the area and the still wide open space available on the field.

After forcing a smile on his face, Oliver bent his head down slightly and asked, "Hey, Lilly, you know what?"

The girl didn't lift her head from his shirt, so the boy felt her words against his chest as he heard her muffled voice ask, "What?"

Oliver suddenly broke her hold on him, tapped her lightly on the top of her blonde head, and shouted, "You're it!" Oliver made a mad dash for the building materials to the west of the foundation. As he reached the safety of the materials he turned around and discovered that Lilly hadn't moved from her original position. This entire thing must have hit her harder than he thought it had. He had been sure that she would perk up immediately at a game of tag.

As he approached her from behind he noticed that she was shaking her head. Her voice seemed to have regained its strength as she said, "You're so childish, Oliver."

"We're both childish," stated Oliver, ready for another round of being the crying shoulder.

Lilly's voice called out again as Oliver was within arms reach, "Maybe so, but at least I don't fall for stupid tricks." He realized the meaning of the words too late as Lilly spun around. In a move honed from years of spilling out on a skateboard, Lilly dove to the immediate left of Oliver, slapping him hard on the chest as she passed him. When she hit the ground, she tucked and rolled up onto her feet. As Oliver writhed slightly in pain from the stinging slap Lilly was already a good distance away, ready to use the foundation as cover.

It was an evenly matched game of tag. Oliver may have had the superior top speed, but Lilly was far more maneuverable. By the end, they were both breathless and lying down on one of the few large patches of grass left on the field. They were sprawled out with their heads next to each other, their bodies oriented in opposite directions. Gazing up into the now dark sky, they each struggled to regain their breath but their mouths were stuck in bright smiles.

Even after they had regained their breath, they continued to lie down staring up at the stars. It was a long time before Oliver broke the silence, his eyes focused on the North Star as he asked, "I wonder what Miley's up to."

In the dark of the night he didn't notice Lilly turn her head towards him, nor the single tear that ran down the side of her face.

* * *

Author's Notes: Thank you for reading to the end of the second chapter. I'm sorry I couldn't warn you about the angst, but this site only allows for two categories. I would like to extend some special thanks to my reviewers, Hilary, WhiteRose, RxJ, and Rachel. You girls are the reason this second chapter came out so quickly. 


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: I fear that I alienated my female readers with my last minute tribute to bad science fiction and kung fu movies at the beginning of the last chapter. These next paragraphs are my attempt to win them back. To any male readers, I'm so very, very sorry.

* * *

The North Star had a clear view of Miley as she walked out onto the open air portion of one of Malibu's exclusive five star restaurants draped over the left arm of the black wig-disguised Jake Ryan. The lighting on the deck was extremely sparse. The only thing illuminating the teenagers at the moment was the soft, pale glow of moonlight; a lighting that Miley mentally confirmed as perfect for a romantic date. As they approached the table, Jake broke ahead of her slightly so that he could chivalrously pull her chair out for her like a perfect gentleman should. As Miley offered him a generous smile and descended onto her seat she was blissfully unaware that this move had been designed long ago to allow the male a generous view of the female's form; a view that Jake took in with a generous smile of his own. Miley was wearing a black dress that hugged her body pleasantly, showing the young man all of her curves. A simple yet eye-catching ivory eyelet detail at the bust and skirt of the dress drew his attention towards it's the mildly cut v-back which showed him a glimpse of the unblemished, porcelain skin which usually lay hidden underneath her elaborately upswept hair. 

After carefully pushing forward on the chair as Miley sat down, Jake resisted the urge to have a taste of the uncovered skin and strode to his end of the simple, white cloth covered table allowing Miley her own view of her date. He was not as dressed up as she was, but her view was no less pleasant in her own humble opinion. The boy had chosen to wear a fitted, striped, navy blazer over a light blue, silk dress shirt. The dress shirt was unbuttoned at the top, allowing Miley a peak at the results of the strenuous physical training for his movies. As her gaze fell lower, she saw that the shirt was not tucked into his vintage jeans; which were rock star tight. She admired the tightness of the jeans up until he was seated and staring into her eyes from across the table.

Their visual connection was interrupted as a well-dressed waiter quietly approached the table. With disturbing precision he lit the four candles that were set around the intricate, silver spiral centerpiece of the table. The centerpiece reflected the light in such a way that everything that touched the table was sufficiently illuminated, and the eyes of the people sitting at the table sparkled brilliantly.

After adjusting the centerpiece slightly, the waiter handed them menus and began rattling off the specials and chef recommendations with remarkable speed. As soon as he finished his spiel and walked off to prepare their drinks, Miley took a moment to close her eyes and bask in what she had described to her friends as a perk to dating a superstar. Often she would come back from these dates and complain to her father that she should be allowed to splurge more of her Hannah Montana earnings on restaurants like this one. Her dad's favorite dodge of this particular complaint was pouting at his daughter and asking why his own five star, culinary masterpieces of peanut butter and jelly weren't enough for her anymore.

A fresh breeze was coming off of the ocean; carrying the familiar scent of salt and sand to her nose and making the whole event seem less surreal. From inside the restaurant a live band was playing a smooth version of "Sway (Quien Sera)" as a handful of couples did exactly what the music suggested. Miley realized that this, like most of her dates with Jake, had the potential to be one of the most romantic dates of her lifetime. She just had to make sure that one thing didn't happen.

After a quick check of the area to find suitable topics for conversation, Miley formulated a plan. She would begin with the centerpiece. Once that had run its course, she would move on to the candles that lit up the centerpiece, and finally remark about the lack of light on the patio besides the candles and the stars. By then she would have figured out something new to talk about. Once she had taken a deep breath to prepare herself, her perkiest voice asked, "Hey, Jake, this centerpiece is amazing, isn't it?"

After eyeing the centerpiece critically for a moment, Jake's mouth formed a cheesy grin. Miley resisted the urge to groan as she set her right elbow on the table and leaned her head against her propped fist. That grin meant that her plan had failed miserably. "You know," Jake began. "When I was shooting Zombie Dog-nappers in Indiana, there was a larger piece of art shaped like that at the hotel I was staying at. Speaking of Zombie Dog-nappers …"

Once Jake began talking about himself, all attempts at civilized conversation were doomed. At least he was breathtakingly handsome. Miley did what she always did in this situation; she tuned out his words and focused on his sparkling blue eyes.

* * *

As the limo pulled up to her house Jake was still prattling incessantly about something he had done on another continent. If she had been just about any other girl in Malibu she would be hanging on his every word, imagining herself visiting those exotic locations. Her second life as Hannah Montana gave her own passport quite a workout, but Jake's personality prevented this knowledge from stopping the flow of his stories. According to Jake Ryan, the only topic worthy of constant discussion and attention was naturally Jake Ryan. 

As soon as the limousine stopped moving, Jake's story also ceased. After some quick fiddling with some controls on a conveniently located side panel by the superstar, the limo's lights dimmed considerably and some soft jazz began playing at a pleasant volume. The boy moved forward slowly, angling his head in for the kill. He was not prepared for Miley's hand pressing against his face, and with a flick of her ridiculously strong wrist she had pushed him back onto his side of the limo. Rebuked but not dominated, he checked his reflection in the limousine window for facial injury as he whined, "Do I have to go up there, Miley?"

Miley's arms were crossed under her breasts, and Jake had to fight hard to keep his eyes focused on her face. He had made the mistake of not keeping his eyes level with hers enough times before to have developed a healthy fear of his girlfriend's punishing slap. Her eyes were drilling into his as she stated, "You don't get a taste of these lips until we're in front of my door."

"But Miley, your Dad hates me!" complained Jake as he squinted at the intimidating front door of Miley's house. "Remember the last time when he just happened to be watering the plants?"

Miley shrugged her shoulders innocently as she said, "So my daddy likes to keep his lawn clean and green. That's not a crime."

It was Jake's turn to cross his arms over his chest as he retorted, "At 11 o'clock at night?"

The puppy dog face she had learned under Lilly's intense tutelage came out in full force then, blinding Jake with both pity and sympathy for his girlfriend. He barely heard her ask in her husky voice, "Come on, Jake. Am I not worth getting a little bit wet?" As Jake stepped out of the limo and prepared to escort Miley to the door the girl pumped her right fist slightly and forcefully whispered to herself, "I've still got it."

The walk towards the door was a cautious one by both parties. Each of the teens was searching the immediate area for signs of Robbie Ray. By the time they were standing in front of the door they were confident that Miley's father was nowhere to be found.

Smiling up at her date brightly she said the obligatory, "I had a great time tonight, Jake." It was obligatory because although he had filled the evening with boring chatter about himself, he had, as usual, spent an unusually large amount of money on a simple date. Often she wished she could say this genuinely, but having your cake and eating it too wasn't a luxury available to everyone. Plus, her cake was so nice to look at that it would be a crying shame to eat it.

Like he had done in the limousine Jake angled his face in for the kill, and this time he met no resistance from Miley. As their lips touched Jake closed his eyes and enjoyed his reward for showing his girlfriend a good time. First there was the softness of her lips as they pressed against his. Next there was the sweet scent that was wafting off of her hair. Then there were her hands, one of which was holding his left cheek, the other resting on his lower back, and the third grasping his right ankle tightly. And then the feel of his hand on her hip … wait, third hand?

No one was more surprised than Miley when Jake broke the kiss to peek down at his feet. The title of most surprised passed over to Jake as he spotted the scaly, bark-covered hand attached to his leg. Flashbacks of zombie trees infiltrated Jake's consciousness with frightening speed and urgency. Miley regained and held onto her title as Jake ran away from her at full speed, jumped into the still open door of the limo, slammed the door shut, and yelled at the top of his lungs for the limo driver to do what he was being paid to do.

The title vanished into nothingness as she heard the familiar sound of her brother's laughter coming from the bushes directly behind where her boyfriend had been standing. After shooting her right arm into the bushes it took her mere moments to fish her brother out of the plants. As he dangled from her right fist by the black cloth of his shirt collar he grinned weakly and asked, "What's up, sis?"

Miley took a moment to size up her brother before answering. He was dressed in black from head to toe. His blond hair was even being covered up by a reversed black baseball cap. His right hand seemed to be the sole exception to the black rule since it was covered with a gruesome, scaly hand that Jackson had probably purchased from some cheap costume store. This was definitely a premeditated ambush. In a no-nonsense voice that received plenty of polishing from her Hannah Montana persona, she demanded, "Why did you do it, Jackson Rod Stewart?"

The use of his full name in the dominating voice had the desired effect, and the fish on the hook spilled his guts in record time. There weren't many guts, but there were more than enough. Her brother simply said in a pitiful voice, "Dad paid me 20 bucks to do it." As his sister shoved him back into the bushes and stormed into the house, Jackson's only thought was that he was so happy to not be his dad right now. He landed with a loud crash as his sister slammed their front door shut.

It didn't take long for Miley to find Robbie Ray. He was seated on the living room couch watching television and eating handfuls of fresh popcorn from a bowl as though he didn't have a care in the world. The girl was determined to give him a fresh handful of cares. Her storming stride moved Miley in front of the television where she took up her battle stance: her weight was distributed to her right leg, her arms crossed in front of her, her face formed into a scowling pout, and her eyes blazed with the fires of condemnation. In the same voice she had used on her brother, she demanded, "Why did you do it, Daddy?"

After straining to see past his daughter to no avail, Robbie Ray patted the couch seat next to him invitingly and said, "Come sit down next to me, bud. I'll give you some of this popcorn and tell you why I did it." Miley tried her hardest to stay angry at her father, but their close relationship never allowed her to sustain anything other than minor anger flares here and there. Her face still righteously displaying the scowling pout she moved to the right side of her father and sat down. With lightning quickness she snatched the entire bowl of popcorn away from her father and began devouring its contents. Robby Ray's attempt to join in the consumption of the popcorn was halted as Miley slapped his hand away. With a rueful grin Robbie Ray muttered, "This girl really is my daughter."

This drew a puzzled look from Miley until she remembered that she was supposed to be displaying righteous anger. The scowling pout back in full force she said, "Here I am, Daddy. I'm sitting on the couch and eating your popcorn, so spill it. Why did you do it?"

With his eyes still focused on the television and its flashing sports highlights, her father's right arm somehow found its way across her shoulders. This was a move, the girl realized with a shudder, which he had probably honed on countless girls in his youth. "How about we play a game, Miles?"

Laying her head on her father's shoulder, she asked, "What kind of game?"

"I'll ask you some questions, and they're going to do the job of answering your question for me." He looked down at his daughter, calling her attention to him as he continued, "For this to work though, you're going to have to be entirely honest with your answers."

The girl shrugged her shoulders and said, "Honesty is one of my best qualities. Bring it on, Daddy."

Robbie Ray began the line of questions by asking, "Do you tell your boyfriend everything?"

"What do you mean by everything?" questioned Miley as she looked up at her father.

Her father stared at the television for a moment to gather his thoughts before clarifying, "Things like how you're feeling, what you want to do next week, odd things that happened to you during the day, you know stuff like that."

"Well, not really," admitted Miley. A rueful grin spread onto her face as she continued, "Jake's more of the bragging and less of the listening type, after all." She shrugged her shoulders once more before reasoning, "Anyway, that's what I have Lilly and Oliver for."

Robbie Ray nodded sagely at her reasoning. In his low, southern drawl he recalled, "This would be your fourth or fifth time back together if I'm not mistaken."

"Sixth if you count the kiss before he went off to … I mean fifth sounds about right," agreed Miley nervously, avoiding her father's prying eyes by stuffing a couple of handfuls of popcorn into her mouth.

Robbie Ray joined was grinning now, albeit slightly guiltily. After clearing the grin from his face so that it wouldn't affect the tone of his voice, he asked, "Alright, this one's important. Did you have fun tonight?"

In an extremely rapid burst of sound the girl babbled, "Well we went to this really fancy restaurant, and before that he took me out on one of his boats to watch the sunset."

Robbie Ray used his right arm to shake her shoulders lightly before he verbally interrupted, "You're stalling."

A deep sigh escaped from her mouth before she dejectedly said, "Well, technically, no. I guess."

In true didactic style, Robbie Ray pointed out, "So you have a repeating boyfriend that you can't really communicate with, and who can't even show you a good time when backed by all of the money in the world." Again looking down at his daughter, he asked, "And why is this guy your boyfriend … again?"

Happy to have a question that she could answer honestly without feeling bad about her answer, she looked her father in the eyes and quickly blurted out, "He's so cute, Daddy."

Robbie Ray's eyes seemed to sadden slightly to the teenager. His voice soon finished the exercise by saying, "And there you have it, bud. The only things holding your relationship together are physical attraction and the fact that he's tends to not be around long enough for his personality to burn down the barn."

"That's deep and harsh at the same time, Daddy," complained Miley as she turned her attention back to the television.

The sad look had fallen from her father's eyes to his lips as it twisted them into a melancholy smile. "Take it from a man who has been involved in too many meaningless relationships based on physical attraction. The type of person you want for a significant other is someone that makes you happy just by being near you."

Miley rolled her eyes at the over-used expression. "That's such a cliché way of describing love, Dad."

"There's a reason they write so many songs describing it that way, Miley," said her father as she tussled her hair. "It's because it works. Anyway, just think about it for me, eh? Your old man is going to head to bed now." After standing up he planted a kiss on his daughter's forehead before climbing the stairs to the second floor.

Miley was left alone with the television and her thoughts. She begrudgingly acknowledged that what her father had said made sense. Still, according to the rest of the world she had landed the tastiest fish in the ocean. Besides, was there really any boy in Malibu that could make her happy just by being around her? Other than Oliver, since he probably shouldn't count.

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted when she heard a sharp knocking coming from behind her. Cautiously turning around she found that Jackson was pressing his entire body against the glass in an attempt to get her attention. Smiling to herself, Miley got up from the couch and moved close enough to the porch door for the two siblings to converse through the glass.

As soon as his sister was within listening distance, Jackson shouted, "Miles! Let me in, you locked the front door and I didn't bring my keys outside when I went to hide in the bushes!"

Miley nodded her head at her brother agreeably. "Yeah, I figured it was something like that."

Jackson was looking at his sister like she was crazy now. Holding his hands upwards questioningly, he demanded, "So let me in, already!"

The girl tapped her right pointer finger against her chin as though she were calculating something in her head. After a moment's deliberation she concluded, "20 bucks should be enough for a night at a cheap motel. Good night, bro." Without another word, and ignoring the pitiful screams of her brother, Miley proceeded up the stairs to her room ready to turn in for the night.

Jackson sat down on the porch and pushed his head against the glass door in defeat. He perked up slightly as he remembered the 20 dollar bill sitting in his right pant pocket. Removing the bill from his pocket, he hugged it tightly to his chest and murmured, "At least I have you, buddy. Oh, and Miley left the TV on!" The boy pushed his head back against the glass and began to watch the wonders of late night ESPN.

* * *

The next morning as Robbie Ray prepared for his morning jog he was treated to the sight of his son sleeping against the porch's glass door. The teenager was using his costumed right arm as a pillow while his left arm clutched something tightly to his chest. After opening the door, Robbie Ray kicked Jackson awake. It took three kicks, but his son was soon sitting up and Robbie Ray discovered that Jackson had been embracing a 20 dollar bill through the night.

As the teenager rubbed his eyes with his left hand, Robbie Ray took a sip from his orange juice and asked his son, "Why didn't you try to open the door, Jackson? It wasn't locked."

The blush that erupted on Jackson's face told his father that he hadn't thought of that possibility. His mouth attempted to cover for his idiocy by saying, "Of course I could've gotten back in Dad, but then me and President Jackson here couldn't have had our little sleepover."

After kicking Jackson once more for good measure, Robbie Ray sighed and went back to preparing for his morning jog.

* * *

Author's Notes: You might not believe me when I type this, but I wrote the majority of the date scene while I was watching two guys beat each other senseless on television. Wednesday Night Fights are one of my guilty pleasures. Of course, the music I had playing in the background was more romantic, but I just found the situation kind of funny in hindsight. 

To my precious reviewers, thank you for your support. By the way, please don't be afraid to leave constructive criticism in your reviews. I know my stories aren't perfect, and before I upload a new chapter I frequently to back to past ones to do minor repairs. I don't consider such criticism rude at all, I consider them part of the learning process. Don't worry; I'm stable enough to take the verbal hits. Physical ones are another matter entirely …


	4. Chapter 4

The familiar scene of students mindlessly ambling around seemed to be the overlying motif of the lunch room. The students could not really be blamed for their actions since it was before noon time and anyone who has ever met a teenager knows that in general they don't really wake up until after school is over. Lilly, Miley, and Oliver were seated at their usual table discussing what had happened over the weekend while they consumed their lunches. Their seating arrangement was the usual: Miley was seated directly across from Lilly, who was seated to the right of Oliver.

Their table was seated in an inconspicuous corner of the lunchroom, close enough to the exit for them to easily escape when lunchtime was over but far enough away for them to not be bothered every time someone rushed into the room. They had arrived at this location through sheer serendipity, but were now deeply attached to their position. They had displayed the strength of this bond to the table during the great food fight of late February, but that is a story for another time.

As Miley drowned Lilly in all of the extravagant details of her date with Jake, Oliver railed against his natural tendencies and focused his attention on something other than Miley's voice. Two tables away a humongous senior dressed in a grey shirt overlapped slightly by dirty denim overalls was going through an elaborate ritual with his food. He had opened up a bag of potato chips and was sprinkling it liberally over an opened pita bread sandwich. As he began liberally adding alternating dollops of ketchup and hot sauce to the concoction Oliver could no longer resist the urge to call his friends' attention to the bizarre food preparation taking place.

Oliver tuned back into Miley's voice just in time to hear her exclaim, "And then he ran screaming back into the limo!"

As Lilly gasped in shock at Jake's retreat, Oliver reached across the table to touch Miley on the hand and beg her, "Repeat this story from the beginning, please."

After raising an eyebrow at Oliver's sudden interest, Miley shrugged slightly and said, "To make a long story short, Daddy paid Jackson to hide in the bushes and scare Jake when we were in front of the house."

After sending a silent prayer of thanks towards patron saint Robbie Ray, the boy asked, "So how did Jackson do it?"

Miley's eyes rolled at the mention of her brother, but she explained, "My brother had some kind of zombie costume arm that he used to grab Jake's leg."

"Jackson is a genius," Oliver muttered while he imagined Jake running away in a blaze of zombie slaying shame.

This sudden praise of Miley's brother raised an alarm for his friends. Lilly immediately reached up for Oliver's forehead with her right hand to check for a blazing fever. After confirming that he wasn't delirious she shook her head at Miley who followed up by asking Oliver, "Are you sure you're ok there, bud?" Oliver was too far gone in his fantasy of dressing up like a zombie and randomly popping out at Jake for him to notice the actions of the girls, however. After an additional couple of failed attempts at grabbing his attention, the girls labeled him a lost cause and continued with their conversation.

As Miley turned her attention to her peanut butter and jelly sandwich Lilly gushed, "That new skate park they've been working on for forever is finally opening this weekend!"

After swallowing her latest bite of sandwich, Miley asked, "The one they were making in the warehouse a couple towns over?"

Lilly nodded emphatically, paying no attention whatsoever to her chocolate pudding cup. "They've been building this one for ages! All of the magazines say the layout of the park is gnarly! Oh, and remember that contest they held back in July for talented spray painting artists?" Miley feigned knowledge of the event with a nod. "Well the winners from that contest were paid to help decorate the park."

Smiling at Lilly's agitated words and excited expression Miley asked, "So I take it you're going to make a trip to the skate park this weekend?"

Oliver was awakened from his daydreams as Lilly popped up from her seat and yelled out a resounding, "Yes!" The conversation experienced a pause as Lily shrunk back into her seat and waited for the surrounding tables to stop staring at her. After she was sure that she had shrunk off of the teenage radar she continued in a comparatively miniscule voice, "My Dad promised to drive me there on Saturday."

It seemed to Oliver that there was something off about Lilly's declaration. Even in its quieted state, there wasn't enough energy put into it. There was a slight indentation on her right cheek, suggesting that she was chewing on it absently. Her body was leaning forward slightly indicating that she was waiting for something. Realizing what she was waiting for, Oliver asked, "Do you want some company, Lilly?" The blonde girl favored him with her brightest smile as an affirmation for his question. Smiling back at his best friend, he said, "Sounds like I'll get to give my old skateboard a workout on Saturday."

"I'm not doing anything on Saturday, so if ya'll don't mind a wallflower next to the half-pipe, I'll come too," added Miley. After a moment of pondering, the girl admitted, "I didn't know that you skateboard, Oliver." After slowly glancing over at each other, Oliver and Lilly burst into uncontrollable laughter. As the bewildered frown formed on her face, Miley complained, "Which inside joke didn't I get this time?"

After their laughter had subsided, Oliver began, "When I was 10 I had a gigantic crush on a skater girl I noticed while … does the ground seem less stable to you guys?" Miley turned her attention from Oliver's words to the state of their lunch table. It was most noticeable in her cup of apple juice. There were ripples forming from the center of the drink and extending outward at a frighteningly increasing pace. This obvious signal of a stampede could only mean one thing.

As Oliver and Lilly stood up and began gathering their lunches Miley threw an apologetic smile their way. By the time they had cleared out of the table to their secondary position in the lunchroom, Jake had entered the room followed by his usual gaggle of adoring female fans. After spotting Miley in her usual position he turned on his 100-megawatt grin and marched over to her. The gaggle dispersed as soon as they saw he was heading towards his girlfriend. It ruined the illusion when the object of your undying devotion was focused on another girl.

After he had taken a seat across from Miley, Jake took a moment to look around the lunchroom and send nods of recognition or smiles at different people. It was a point of contention among her friends whether this was to increase his popularity with the student populace or impress Miley with his social connections. After he had finished his ritual, he leaned forward and asked, "So Miley, you remember that club I was telling you about last week?"

Miley's eyes shifted slightly as her memory tried to filter out the mass of words that were usually devoted to himself and find the small parcels that were not. "You mean that new club downtown that has a special section for teen celebrities?"

"The one and only," grinned Jake as he ran his hand through his blonde hair. "I was thinking you and I, minus my itchy wig, could check it out Saturday night."

Miley head was bouncing up and down excitedly even before Jake had mentioned the day. Hannah Montana had of course been invited to the club, but her dad had forbidden it due to the fact that the media was starved for new Hannah Montana information. She hadn't performed in concert recently to rest up her voice for the wave of public appearances that were due when her next album launched.

While Hannah Montana had grown older, the paparazzi had grown bolder. During her last concert, one cameraman had somehow snuck into her backstage bathroom and hidden underneath the counter. If Roxy hadn't been around, he would have been treated to a front row seat of Miley's wig touch-up. Because of incidents like that one, her father understandably didn't want to risk an appearance of Hannah Montana in a non-secured area.

If she arrived as Miley Stewart on the arm of Jake Ryan, however, her dad really wouldn't be able to complain. They had learned from previous experience that the paparazzi focused their cameras solely on Jake. This was thanks to Jake's publicists working around the clock. The media hadn't really taken to Miley since her runway fiasco last year, so it would be bad for Jake's business if the public found out that Jake was still going out with the crazy girl in the swan dress. The word in the paparazzi underground was that any paparazzo who sold a picture of Jake that included Miley in it would subsequently be blackballed by all of the major magazines due to the movie star's political clout.

As Miley tuned out Jake, who was currently regaling her with another tale about a place he had been to when he was shooting a movie, she realized that her date conflicted with her trip with Lilly. After carefully weighing the two against each other she came to the conclusion that Lilly wouldn't mind if she skipped a round of being a spectator. She would just have to apologetically text her the next time that Jake was occupied.

* * *

Lunch had just ended, releasing Lilly and Oliver back into the hallways. FST was up next, so they had a considerable walk ahead of them. They, with a heavy emphasis on Lilly, spent most of the walk talking about their plans for the skate park. They had begun the conversation with equal speaking rights, but Oliver's had been limited after his suggestion that they arrive at the skate park dressed up in black and white polka dot clothing with the words, "Malimoo Skate Duo" scribbled on the back. As they were rounding the corner for the final hallway, Lilly's phone stated in Miley's voice, "It's me, bud." Ignoring Oliver's envious stare at her cell phone, Lilly flipped it open to read the text message. 

Oliver liked to play a little game when it came to Lilly's text messages. He had known her for so long that her face was an understandable language to him. The game was simple; he would take a peek at her face then guess what the message was about. After a quick scan of her face, he asked in an uncertain voice, "Did you win the lottery?"

Aware that her face was giving away her immediate feelings, Lilly forced a frown on her face as she answered, "No, Miley can't come with us on Saturday."

The young man immediately came to a stop, forcing Lilly to halt her forward motion and peer up at him questioningly. In a calm, not very inquisitive voice he asked, "What came up between now and five minutes ago?" The words were more of a stall than a concern, because the frown residing on Lilly's face was her special "I'm hiding something" mask. That text message had incited something inside her that she didn't want to share.

Lilly realized that Oliver was scanning every crease of her face now for a sign of the now invisible outburst of giddiness. If he kept it up, she would melt under the gaze of his deep brown eyes and be forced to reveal her joy at spending the day alone with him. Luckily, Miley had given her the perfect ammunition for this situation. It was a magic word, and it went along the lines of, "Jake."

Oliver's scanning gaze was effectively dispelled as a wave of jealousy overtook him. He proceeded into the FST classroom in a zombie like manner, his feet barely clearing the ground as he hunkered forward. It was such a convincing mimicry of a zombie that it probably would have frightened Jake if he had witnessed it. Lilly smiled slightly to herself before following the boy into the room. She knew she should feel guilty about forcing Oliver into a mindless state, but knowing how to push his buttons was a sign of their intimacy. The happiness she felt due to that realization far outweighed her feelings of guilt.

As she sat down at her desk next to a defeated Oliver, she sent a text to Miley forgiving her for breaking their plans; conveniently leaving out the fact that Miley had done her a tremendous favor. Once that was finished she glanced over at Oliver who had lain his head down on his desk. His head was turned away from her, so she was able to trace the outline of his head with her eyes without fear of being caught. She narrowly avoided a sudden urge to reach out and gently stroke his dark brown hair, fighting it down with the notion that it would be an inappropriate action for a best friend. For now, she contented herself with daydreaming about the upcoming Saturday.


	5. Chapter 5

"Pass me another one," groaned Oliver from his hunched over position on a stool at Rico's.

Jackson surveyed the boy from behind the counter, absentmindedly polishing a water bottle with an old white T-shirt. "You're sure you want another one? What's that, your fifth?"

Oliver's head lifted slightly to glare at the "barkeep" before dropping back down and muttering, "I've had a rough day."

Shrugging slightly, Jackson ambled towards the refrigerator and removed a cold bottle of soda. After a quick, sharp whistle, the worker sent the bottle spiraling in the air towards the dejected teen. As Oliver caught the bottle deftly and began the process of cautiously opening a recently tossed container of soda, Jackson joked behind a wide grin, "If you keep this up, you're going to have a rough trip to the bathroom, too."

The teenager rolled his eyes at the bad joke before proclaiming, "I'll take my chances." True to his word, he immediately lifted the freshly opened bottle to his lips and proceeded to take a long pull of the dark, bubbling liquid.

It had started as an ordinary afternoon for Jackson, who had come to the hut immediately after school to open up the shack. About an hour into the usual girl watching and constant harassment by Rico, Oliver had arrived and planted himself smack dab in the middle of the counter. Normally this wouldn't be an issue, since the teenager had a bright smile and a quick wit about him. Unfortunately, Oliver seemed to have brought some emotional baggage with him today; heavy baggage that brought a slump to his shoulders and a depressing aura to the air around him. The immediate concern for Jackson was the latter, as beach-going chicks don't really dig depressing auras.

Jackson's head tilted as he silently observed his miserable customer. Unable to analyze his subject without further information, he placed his elbows on the counter as he leaned forward and asked, "What's got you so bummed, chum?"

The bummed chum gathered his thoughts by staring deeply into his soda bottle. Thoughts gathered, his eyes rose as he questioned, "Have you ever had something you were really looking forward to snatched out of your grasp?"

"Ah, the snatched away blues," acknowledged Jackson with a sagely nod. "Anything I can do to help?" Oliver perked up slightly before realizing that he couldn't ask Jackson for help with his sister. That was a fairly high ranked tenet of the Guy Code: Thou shalt not asketh another guy for romantic help regarding his sister. Or mother. Eth.

Oliver was saved from his moral turmoil by a loud, brash voice demanding, "And why isn't my father's employee polishing the water bottles like I commanded him to?"

Groaning slightly as he removed himself from the counter, Jackson quickly retrieved the water bottle and began fussing at it with the T-shirt. "I still don't understand why I'm polishing these things," complained Jackson.

"Oh, you'll see," assured Rico as he sat down on a stool next to Oliver. Eyeing the small collection of empty bottles in front of Oliver appraisingly, Rico patted the soda fiend on the shoulder companionably. "I see we have a thirsty guy here. Thanks for the patronage, er … bagel?"

"Donut," corrected Oliver listlessly.

Rico's gaze shifted over to Jackson slowly. "You heard the man," insisted Rico. "Ring him up a donut."

Jackson shook his head at the younger boy's verbal trap and turned his attention back towards Oliver. Leaning only his left elbow on the counter this time, he stated in a conspiratorial tone, "You know, you're not the only one in a rotten mood today."

Oliver's gaze again lifted as he asked, "What do you mean?"

"Back home my sis is prowling around the house like a tiger," stated Jackson as he straightened his back.

"That sounds pretty hot!" exclaimed Rico with a predatory grin. Even the genius's considerable reflexes were not sufficient to dodge Jackson's almost point blank throw of the water bottle polishing T-shirt. Taking the blow full on the face, the youngster toppled backwards off of his chair.

Ignoring Rico's muffled screams of indignation, Jackson continued, "Seems like she wants to go to the mall really badly, but mall buddy Lilly is busy."

"Yeah, Miley doesn't like going to the mall alone," confirmed Oliver. "It makes her feel like a shopping addict."

"Which she is," chuckled Jackson, ducking slightly to dodge Rico's vengeful toss of the T-shirt. After watching the article of clothing sail harmlessly through the air, the Latin boy's eyes narrowed slightly before he stalked off in search of something better to toss at Jackson. Staring at the retreating form of Rico with a slight expression of worry on his face, Jackson recalled, "You know, she'll go with just about anyone when she's in this kind of mood. One time when we were visiting family in Tennessee, she stole our cousin's toddler for some company to a nearby shopping center. About an hour into my family's concentrated search for the little boy, he showed up lagging behind Miley, his little arms barely wrapped around a bag loaded with her purchases."

Oliver didn't need to hear anything else. After plopping a ten dollar bill on the counter, he told Jackson to keep the change, and bolted off of his stool towards the Stewart household.

Grinning to himself, Jackson turned towards the register and wished Oliver a hearty, "Good day, sir."

"What was that?" asked a voice from behind him.

Turning around, Jackson repeated in a slightly forceful tone, "I said, 'Good day!" His reflexive recitation of a familiar phrase rendered him unguarded for the sight of Rico holding a loaded water balloon at the ready position. After a quick extension of Rico's arm, the front of the surprised teenager's shirt was entirely soaked. "Very funny, Rico," stated Jackson blandly as he surveyed the damage to his clothing.

"It's going to be even funnier when you realize what I drenched you with!" exclaimed Rico. An evil chuckle emanated from the Latin boy, a clear sign that something bad was about to happen.

Jackson took an experimental sniff at his shirt and then had to fight back the urge to regurgitate his lunch. "What the hell is this stuff?" asked the olfactorily assaulted teenager. "It's … it's not Porta-Potty gunk, is it?"

"No, no. Even the great Rico is not that cruel," assuaged Rico. "Close though. It's diluted Liquid Ass." He had precious little time to stand still after his confession as Jackson had hopped over the counter with bloody murder in his eyes. Luckily for Rico, he was pretty fast on his feet.

* * *

Oliver approached the house cautiously. He had been attempting to work out a more casual reason for his sudden appearance at Miley's doorstep, but he hadn't been able to come up with anything. He was going to have to stick to the truth, and the truth wasn't very flattering. Voicing his thoughts, Oliver muttered under his breath, "Hey Miley. I want to spend more time with you, and I heard you needed someone to stand next to you at the mall so you don't feel like a shopaholic." He shook his head sadly as he rang the doorbell. 

Miley opened the door cautiously at first. After recognizing that it was Oliver at the door, she threw the door open and favored him with a wide smile. Like it usually did when he caught sight of Miley, Oliver's heart rate accelerated rapidly. Her appearance hadn't changed in the past three hours when he had last seen her, but there was something about seeing her after an extended period that affected him every time. This was always a dangerous time for the young man. With the blood suddenly rushing through his body he was prone to make stupid mistakes that he wouldn't normally make. Things like repeating what he had just muttered to himself because his mind wasn't able to come up with anything else. Luckily for Oliver, Miley cut him off at, "Hey Miley."

"Oliver! Just the boy I wanted to see!" interrupted Miley. Her infectious grin lowered slightly as the girl dipped her head in a show of mock submission. Gazing at him through a thin curtain of her long eyelashes, Miley asked, "You want to accompany a lonely girl to the mall?"

Somehow Oliver managed to stutter out a shaky, "Sure." The blood had crashed into his face at the pleading tone in Miley's voice, leaving him with a feeling that it would be haunting him after he went to sleep. Turning quickly to hide the redness in his face, Oliver asked over his shoulder, "Shall we go, lonely girl?"

"One sec, I need to grab my purse and put some things away," called Miley as she wheeled around and jogged into her living room.

Oliver adopted a waiting position at the frame of the open front door, taking a good look at the state of the room. There were signs that Miley had decided to drown her craving for a mall outing with a deluge of television programming. The television was tuned into one of the trashy soap operas that Miley loved to watch when she thought no one was paying her any attention, the coffee table had a bowl of fresh snacks and a tall glass of lemonade prominently centered on it, and the throw pillows on the couch were arranged for maximum Miley comfort: one positioned for her lower back and two for her neck and face. Even the girl's hair looked slightly mussed up from lying down on the couch, a detail Oliver took in with a quiet smile.

Having put away the snacks and glass, Miley returned to the door with a chocolate leather purse in tow. The girl nudged the boy out of the house with her elbow before locking up, and then the two were on their way.

Walking along the empty street with the warm, late afternoon sun beaming down at him and Miley striding comfortably at his side, Oliver reaffirmed his belief in heaven. In the young man's humble opinion, it would be extremely easy for the scene to be transformed into one worthy of a blessed afterlife. He would just need to cradle Miley's hand tenderly in his own.

As Oliver gazed dreamily at Miley's left hand, the appendage's owner suddenly said, "Thanks again for coming with me, Oliver."

"No problem at all," returned the teenager with a wide smile. "You can't go to the mall without your trusty riot shield, right?"

His self-title elicited a burst of laughter from the girl. Once the laughter had subsided, she answered, "Actually, I probably could have if Lilly wasn't practicing her skateboarding moves like a madwoman."

"She's just getting ready for the skate park. I have a feeling you're going to miss a good show," predicted Oliver seriously.

With a sly smile, Miley said, "I'll have something nice to look at, don't you worry."

The meaning of her words pierced his heart like shards of ice. Feeling a small, bitter feeling rising in his chest, Oliver could not stop himself from asking, "Why didn't you just go to the mall with Jake?"

"You've been to the mall with him before," stated Miley matter-of-factly. "Even though he swears he's trying to change, I can't trust Jake to not be 'Jake Ryan, superstar' in these types of situations."

"So you're settling for 'Oliver Oken, normal guy who just happened to be there'?" asked Oliver with a sardonic twist to his lips.

Leaning into Oliver endearingly, Miley said, "No, I'm going to the mall with 'Oliver Oken, best friend'. He's a little moody, but I can't seem to make do without him." Oliver's facial expression lightened at that, bringing a smile to Miley's lips.

"Why didn't you just call me if you wanted to go to the mall that badly?" asked the now smiling young man.

"I seem to recall you putting a ban on my using you as a replacement for Lilly after the handcuffs incident," stated Miley airily.

"But that was over a year ago!" exclaimed Oliver in wonderment.

Turning her head to look Oliver in the eye, Miley asked, "What kind of person would I be if I didn't pay attention to the requests of my best friend?"

Feeling happy that Miley paid that much attention to his words, Oliver magnanimously declared, "Well next time you want to go to the mall and Lilly's busy, I won't mind if you call me up."

The two teenagers spent several moments in silence by before Miley suddenly asked, "I don't mean to look a gift hog in the mouth, but why did you come by my house?"

Averting his head slightly, Oliver answered, "I was at Rico's and Jackson mentioned you weren't doing anything." After taking a quick peek at Miley's face to make sure it was an acceptable reason, he questioned, "It's gift hog instead of horse down in Nashville, eh?"

"Oh, sorry about that," grinned Miley. "No, it's gift horse down in Nashville unless you come from my family."

"Let me guess," commanded Oliver, stopping his forward momentum so he could put some thought into his answer. Miley turned towards the boy, waiting on the heels of her sandals with her hands joined together behind her back. After a pregnant pause, Oliver guessed, "There was a county fair and your family's hog was on the verge of winning best in show until the inspector went too close to the pig, which had an infamous love of biting."

"On a scale of one to ten, zero for accuracy," judged Miley mercilessly. Reaching out to pat the boy on his shoulder with her right hand, she conceded with a generous tone, "I'll give you five points for creativity, though."

Shaking his head ruefully, he complained, "Only five?"

Nodding her head as if to nullify his shaking, she explained, "It sounded like a rip-off of Charlotte's Web, Babe, and … Jaws?"

Oliver eyes rolled up slightly as he imagined the mixture of those three movies. After thoroughly enjoying an image of a pig with an enlarged, tusk-sharpened snout in a Spiderman costume stalking a farmer as an invisible orchestra played two threatening, low notes ad infinitum, he said, "You know what? I'd pay to watch that movie."

"Of course you would," agreed Miley as she turned around and resumed her pace. "You have bad taste in movies."

"This from someone who has watched every Jake Ryan movie in existence," taunted Oliver as he caught up with her. It was difficult to dodge the purse that Miley swung at him playfully. Once the boy had been beaten to the girl's satisfaction and they had continued walking, Oliver asked, "So what about that gift hog thing?"

"Well, it looked like my great grandmother was never going to find a husband until my great granddad came along," stated Miley.

"That doesn't make any sense," complained Oliver with a frown.

Miley grinned at her companion before continuing, "Let's just say my great granddad wasn't the slimmest of guys."

Chuckling slightly, Oliver took another look into the sky. It was going to be a good day after all. He definitely owed Jackson a drink the next time he saw him.

* * *

Author's Note: This chapter was added to help balance out the triangle. Looking back on the story with a critical eye after a leave of absence showed me that I may have spent too much time developing Lilly's side of the story. I apologize.

For those wondering, liquid ass is a real product that has its own website. It is the **worst** smelling stuff I have ever had the misfortune of stepping in range of.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: I just wanted to warn you ahead of time. This one is long, even for me. I hope you have a comfortable seat.

* * *

It would have been simple to put an outfit together if the outfit in question wasn't hidden in different piles of clothing that grew out of the floor of her bedroom like persistent weeds. Unfortunately Lilly's clothes had never had the pleasure of being sorted out. In the grand scheme of things this was probably for the best; sorted clothing would make the entire process far too easy than it should be for a girl of Lilly's age. The teenager dove from one pile to the next, creating miniature piles of clothing as her arms scrambled through the larger ones. 

After thirty minutes of clothing diving she had tossed a suitable outfit onto her bed. The ensemble began with a light blue shirt that had a subtle, white floral pattern in the front towards the hem. She would cover the shirt slightly with a cropped, dark denim vest that would cover her from her shoulders to her bust as well as perfectly complement her hand knitted denim flat cap. The bottom of the outfit was composed of a set of white capris and her treasured Vans Rowley XL2s. In her own humble opinion, the crowning achievement was the black and white polka dot tie that she was going to have her father tie for her later on. Oliver had pushed for the idea with such fervor that Lilly had finally agreed to wear the tie. Still, it wouldn't have held any significance for her at all if Oliver hadn't assured her that he would be wearing a matching tie.

Satisfied with her work, Lilly finally took a peek at the clock. She didn't like to pay attention to time when she was putting together an outfit because she felt that it rushed her work. While this method resulted in some very nice outfits, it also had a tendency to lead to her current situation.

From downstairs, Lilly's father heard a familiar shriek of denial. This shriek meant that Lilly had finally put together an outfit, and then realized that she had preciously little time to shower. Glancing at his wristwatch he confirmed that she had about 10 minutes to shower before the proposed leaving time. As was routine, the shriek was closely followed by the sound of running feet and the slamming of the bathroom door.

* * *

The bathroom door opened slowly, allowing the mist of the bathroom to escape in languid tendrils. At a leisurely pace Miley exited the bathroom wrapped in her comfortable pink bathrobe. Her hair was completely tied up in a white towel, allowing her to go about the business of picking out her outfit without worrying about stray, wet strands of hair getting in the way. 

As she walked into her closet and began perusing the available dresses she took a moment to bask in the glory of a pop star's wardrobe. Besides the chance to perform her songs for legions of fans, having the inventory of a miniature clothing store in her walk-in closet was her favorite perk of being Hannah Montana. Choosing one outfit out of the considerable selection was difficult, but somehow she always managed to grin and bear it. Let it never be said that Miley wasn't a trooper.

After a couple of strolls through the closet she had put together a suitable set of clothes. Her outfit had begun with a red lambswool and angora halter top which would hug her body and leave her shoulders and upper back entirely exposed. The softness of the fabric and the sparkling threads of gold glitter forced her to pick it up and arrange the rest of her clothing around it. Robbie Ray would never allow her to leave the house wearing solely that halter top, however, so Miley found an orange, hooded cable sweater that matched her outfit, covered her skin, and could be easily removed. The bottom she eventually selected was a simple, pleated maroon skirt that came down to above her knees. A golden woven belt was picked out to add some glamour to the lower half of her body. The belt was aided by her shoe choice: a pair of crimson red heels that held her feet in place with two small straps towards the front of her feet and one around her ankle. She finished her outfit selection with a pair of barrettes that would keep most of her bangs held in with the rest of her hair. She planned to allow some of her bangs to hang loosely in front of her face to add more movement to her dance moves.

Pleased with her selection, she exited the walk-in closet with a satisfied smile on her face. She was able to sustain the smile even when a zombie hand shot out at her from behind accompanied by a deep growl. Dodging her brother's hand easily she said, "You're barking up the wrong tree, Jerkson. You don't scare me anymore."

Sighing, Jackson collapsed on Miley's bed as he complained, "It's no fun anymore, Miles. You used to be easier to spook than a naked puppy."

Miley's eyes rolled upwards as she deposited her outfit on the one spot of the bed that Jackson wasn't rolling over nostalgically. "You went too hog wild when we were younger. I'm immune now."

"So Dad says you're going to that new club downtown," started Jackson as he rolled onto his belly and looked up at his sister. "It must be nice to be dating a superstar."

"Jackson. I am a superstar, remember?" It was time to get changed, so Miley began the process of removing her brother from her room. The first step was pulling him up off of the bed.

Her brother eventually stood up through no use of his own muscles. Miley had pulled him up entirely by herself, and immediately began pushing him out of the room. This process was more difficult to complete than the first because Jackson would plant his feet into the ground just to make things difficult. As his sister channeled all of her strength into her arms and legs, Jackson suddenly stated, "You're unnecessarily hogging the superstar arm candy position then, Miley! Let's get Jacksannah going again so I can go too!"

"As wrong as that entire situation was, I can probably offer you something worse sometime soon," she said as she continued to push Jackson out of the room. Her statement had the desired effect and Jackson lost strength in his legs as his mind pondered what could possibly be worse than the thought of dating one's sibling. He received the answer after Miley gave him one final shove out of her room. While Jackson stood in the hallway with a puzzled look on his face Miley closed her door firmly and said simply, "Jakeson."

Like always it took longer than usual for Jackson to understand anything witty. Miley was already putting on her clothing before she heard her brother's passionate cry of, "Sour niblets! That's disgusting!" Shaking her head to herself she continued to prepare for the night ahead of her.

* * *

After paying the ten dollar admission fee, Oliver and Lilly entered into the impossibly long building. The skate park was crowded with all levels of skateboarders. In one corner a fresh faced youngster padded to the point of suffocation by protective parents fought against his stiff leg protection so that he could propel himself forward. Nearby a scarred veteran who had begun skating before Lilly's parents had even met each other blazed down a ramp focused on a nearby rail. 

While dodging an out of control beginner by the skin of his teeth, Oliver complained, "It's dangerously crowded in here."

Lilly shrugged nonchalantly as she began strapping on her protective gear. "It's the opening weekend of a delayed, publicized skate park. There's bound to be more than a handful of excited skaters."

"Yeah, but with this many kids floating around I can't show off my mad skillz without fear of hurting somebody," said Oliver as he strapped on his own helmet.

There was a mischievous grin on Lilly's face as she replied, "Oliver, anytime you try a trick, there is a close to 100 percent chance that you're going to hurt someone; namely yourself."

"Is that so?" asked Oliver in a challenging tone while he tossed his skateboard on the ground. As he stepped up onto the board he bragged, "Take a peek at the trick they named after me." Lilly didn't have enough time to react to Oliver's words before he was out of arm's reach and picking up speed. Her face uncontrollably mirrored her feeling of worry due to her immediate memory of Oliver attempting an ollie.

It was a hotly contested boardwalk legend about whether or not Oliver had meant to ollie up to and then grind down the rail of the bridge, land on the sidewalk, bump into the ice cream vendor, and speed away with a fresh cone of vanilla ice cream sitting in his right hand. On one hand, anyone who had been paying attention to the skateboard claimed that it had been a flawless performance, with the board and body of the boy held in perfect balance with the precision of a professional skater. On the other hand, anyone who had been paying attention to Oliver, like Lilly had been, would have seen the boy's panic stricken face and heard his soft, high-pitched, horror driven scream as gravity made him its bitch.

It wasn't long before Oliver had picked up suitable speed for his signature trick, and so he shifted his right foot towards the front of the board and slammed his left heel down onto the back of it. Like always he reached an impressive height of a couple of feet, a result of his extensive training on this, the only trick he had deemed worthy of learning. Lilly's face was allowed to relax for the entire two seconds that he was in the air. On his way down, however, she noticed Oliver was on a collision course with the heavily padded beginner she had seen earlier. Luckily for the young boy Oliver had also noticed him and kicked his skateboard away in order to avoid hurting the child. He landed past the boy on his knees; skidding a few feet on his knee pads before coming to a halt.

Lilly was already close enough to check on his condition before he had finished his power slide, having broken into a run as soon as she noticed the possible collision. Once she had confirmed to herself that he wasn't injured, she grinned in relief and rewarded him for his miraculous save with a light kick on the back. As he twisted his upper-body to look back at his friend she discovered that the smile he was showing her was strained. Deciding to lighten the mood with some light jeering, she nudged her friend with her padded knee and stated in a magnanimous voice, "And so, as predicted moments ago by yours truly, Smokin' Oken goes down in flames. Still, at least you didn't burn up the kid too."

The girl had the pleasure of watching Oliver's smile turn from strained to genuine as he realized that he had somehow avoided a minor catastrophe. "That was pretty close, huh?" A moment of pure, unadulterated laughter was shared between the friends as they let out the tension of the past minute. As soon as Oliver was finished laughing, he shook his head at Lilly and predicted, "Mark my words, Truscott. There are so many people here that even you are going to go down in flames before we're done."

Still grinning happily Lilly patted the boy on his right shoulder consolingly as she chided, "The Soaring Lilly isn't a skater wannabe like some people kneeling before her." After enjoying the blush spreading on Oliver's cheeks for slightly too long, the girl tossed her own skateboard on the ground and rolled away. Oliver was left behind shaking his head to himself as he began the process of picking himself and his dignity up off of the floor again.

* * *

The floor seemed to be vibrating in time with the bass line of the song playing at the moment. The booming music beat down on the couple as they pressed against each other desperately. As their bodies rhythmically grinded together the multicolored lights that seemed to cover every inch of the dance floor took turns at flashing at the pair brightly before dying back down to a normal intensity. Pressed forward by the booming bass and the invasive lights the couple continued with their lewd dance, seemingly unaware of the prying eyes of their spectators. 

Miley Stewart, the owner of one of those prying pairs of eyes, blushed fiercely at the sight of the merging pair of humans on the dance floor and unconsciously pulled her hooded cable sweater more tightly around her body. She managed to pry her eyes off of the sight to check on her boyfriend. Somehow Jake seemed to have not noticed the couple. He smiled down at Miley charmingly as he continued to lead her by the hand up the metallic, spiral staircase towards their private seating section.

The section they finally arrived at lay hidden from the view of most of the club by a gossamer curtain. While the curtain was close to see-through and provided no form of sound proofing, Miley couldn't help feeling isolated from the rest of the club after stepping through the curtain. The section was expensively furnished to accommodate an intimate gathering: a semi-circular plush, leather couch enveloped a compact cherry wood table, a couple of well-placed antique lanterns hung off of the ceiling bathing the area in a cozy level of multicolored light, and a metal railing intricately shaped into the forms of dancing men and women protected the guests from falling onto the dance floor below them.

Seconds after they had seated themselves a stylishly dressed woman entered into the area and asked them what they would like to drink. Miley reflexively ignored the fact that the waitress was eyeing Jake like a rich piece of meat as she placed her order of a virgin strawberry daiquiri. Over the months of dating Jake she had grown accustomed to the attention that he garnered from young women. To his credit he never seemed to pay them any attention when Miley was nearby. Still, he spent many months away from Malibu, and the tabloids liked to hint that his relationships with the leading ladies in his movies tended to move beyond the professional level. Luckily her experiences as Hannah Montana had proven to her that the tabloids were not exactly trustworthy.

Ignoring the urge to toss something at the server as she moved outside of the curtain, Miley turned her attention towards the dance floor. There were so many people packed onto the dance floor that it seemed as though the entire floor was alive and writhing rhythmically in time with the pounding dance hall music. It was a breathtaking sight even for the girl who performed regularly in front of larger crowds. This was most likely due to the fact that she had not lost herself in the music, yet. Jake joined her in her silent observance of the dance floor … for at least five minutes. By then he had linked what he was seeing to something he had done beforehand.

Somehow Miley could feel Jake's cheesy grin before she saw it or heard his story. With great trepidation she turned her head away from the dance floor and towards the boy, visually confirming her worst fear. His mouth was about to move, and once he began talking he would steamroll the rest of the evening. Fortunately the girl had planned ahead for this occurrence. Before his mouth could move, she suddenly complained, "It's really hot in here, isn't it?" She followed her words by shrugging off her sweater at a leisurely pace.

Miley took great pleasure in the way that Jake's face reddened slightly as she revealed her halter top in all of its shimmering, shoulder revealing glory. Still, while she had managed to tie his tongue up effectively throughout the entire sweater removing production, the cheesy grin had remained on his blushing face. It was time to pull out the gun she had wanted to hold in reserve for later. Placing her right pointer finger on his lips to halt any thought of sound escaping them, she asked in her huskiest voice, "Do you want to dance, hun?"

As though bewitched, the boy stood up from the couch without a word, converted his cheesy grin into his charming smile, and extended his arm towards her invitingly. Smiling brightly Miley accepted his offer of aid and stood up delicately. Hand in hand, the couple exited their private section and proceeded towards the crowded dance floor.

* * *

This was probably the most crowded this building was ever going to be, but that didn't seem matter to Lilly. The girl was not sure if it was the environment, the company, or just dumb luck, but she was on fire today. Every trick she had attempted had come off flawlessly. The lines she cut across the skate park were clean and uninterrupted, her sense of balance was impeccable, and her body was obeying every command her mind sent out instantaneously and to the letter. Her performance had not gone unnoticed by the skating public, and there were more than a handful of skaters who would immediately halt whatever they were doing when she rolled by just incase she was going to be attempting another trick. More often than not, those spectators were not disappointed. 

If the conditions had been different, Lilly would surely have buckled under the weight of the constantly staring eyes at least once by now. Luckily for the girl she was aware of only one set of eyes: those of the boy who was doing his best to keep up with her breakneck speed without crashing into anyone.

Lilly tossed Oliver a wink as she shifted her weight on her skateboard. Her entire being focused on the downward sloping rail ahead of her as she slammed her right heel down on her skateboard. Ignoring the urgent feeling of butterflies in her stomach that resurfaced every time she attempted an aerial trick she slid her left foot up to the front of her board, pushing down with that foot as her right leg bent further. Once she felt the rail touch her board, she placed most of her weight on her left leg keeping just enough on her right to keep her board straight. She was able to nosegrind the entire length of the rail and grabbed the side of her board with her left hand before landing as if it were an afterthought.

After Oliver caught up to her his hands shot out to her face, and before Lilly could protest properly his fingers were crawling all over her facial features. Breaking away from his grasp Lilly squinted at her best friend through her horrified expression and asked, "What are you doing?"

Oliver delivered with a deadpan face, "I was just making sure you weren't some professional skater wearing a Lilly mask."

Although a slight blush rose to her cheeks, Lilly still managed to roll her eyes at Oliver's corny sense of humor. "I'm not really THAT good."

"That's for goddamn sure," jeered a man from behind Lilly. Not recognizing the voice, Lilly turned around and saw that the speaker was a normal enough looking skateboarder, maybe four or five years her senior. It was no one she had ever had the displeasure of meeting before that instant, however.

Oliver took a step towards the skater and challenged, "Are you trying to say something, man?"

The man smirked and shrugged nonchalantly. His voice, surprisingly higher in pitch than a normal male voice, qualified, "I'm saying that your girlfriend over there is just a poseur with a couple of tricks."

"I don't know if you can count, but a couple means two. With that last trick alone, she pulled off at least three," stated Oliver as his arms crossed in front of his chest.

"Whatever, this isn't math class, this is skateboarding," the skater said, his voice rising in volume as he took a step towards Oliver. A small crowd was gathering around the trio as the intensity of the argument rose. "And your girlfriend is a poseur."

Wishing that she could stop blushing from the skater calling Oliver her boyfriend, Lilly stole a peek at Oliver's face. Like she expected his teeth were grinding against each other, and she could almost feel the heat from the fire that was burning in his eyes. If she didn't do something, there was a strong possibility that he was stupidly going to start a fight for her honor. The girl placed her left hand on his right shoulder and whispered in his ear, "Don't worry about idiots like him. They don't understand words like normal people. I'll shut him up for you on the halfpipe."

That being said she jumped up on her board and skated towards a nearby quarter pipe. While rolling up the quarter pipe she moved the heel of her left foot off of the side of the middle of her board, kicked down hard on the back of the board, and flicked her left foot up the board, sending it spinning. Lilly landed her board on top of the divider between the quarter pipe and the half pipe. After halting her forward momentum, she picked up her board and stood there for a few seconds to clear her mind for her next trick. By the time she was ready to drop into the halfpipe her entourage, including Oliver, had caught up to her and were looking into the construction from a comfortable distance behind her.

She hadn't been planning to attempt it today due to the crowded conditions of the skate park, but her luck had held out up to that point and the idiot standing behind her had pissed her off. After a couple of deep breaths she took a slight jog towards the edge, dropped her board into the halfpipe and followed after it. Her feet met the board in the air and the forward leaning girl landed successfully halfway down the pipe. After pumping her legs she had picked up enough speed to vault herself straight up in the air, where she grabbed the nose of her skateboard while kicking her left foot forward off of the deck.

She knew the moment her board hit the ramp that she would have enough speed to pull off a 540. She probably would have made it too, if only a skater somewhat farther down the halfpipe hadn't just bailed on his McTwist attempt. As the skater tumbled around the bottom of the ramp his skateboard shot away from him and directly in front of the downward sliding Lilly's path. Their skateboards collided before the girl could react, sending her body hurtling forward at a ferocious velocity.

* * *

Miley crashed down onto the couch, her feet suddenly deciding that they had had enough. Her plan had been to tire out Jake on the dance floor to the point where he would be unable to put together rational thought, let alone strings of boring sentences. Unfortunately she had neglected to take into account the strenuous physical training required to be an action movie star. While a mere glimpse of the dance floor now was bringing phantom pains to her feet, Jake still looked as fresh as a bed of roses. A very handsome bed of roses that was babbling on about a club scene he shot during the filming of Zombieman III: At Graveyard's Beginning. 

After withstanding the barrage of words to the outer limits of her threshold, Miley finally devised a plan to give her a brief respite. After snatching her untouched strawberry daiquiri from the table in front of her, she downed it in three long pulls. Ignoring the slight brain freeze that was occurring in her frontal lobe she extended her empty glass towards Jake and managed to ask through chattering teeth, "Jake, can you get me a refill please?"

It took a couple of additional pleading glances but soon the boy was headed towards the bar on the first floor. Alone by herself in the private seating section, and unwilling to gaze out at the dance floor, the girl used the only option available to her. She laid herself down on the couch, focusing her eyes on the ceiling. Whoever had furnished the club had done an extremely thorough job since even the ceiling was worthy of attention. The antique light fixtures that were hanging off of the ceiling had been designed with shapes and patterns on their lids, the effect of this being that the ceiling was covered with different images of light and shade. While the order and placement of the images was random, it felt like an avant-garde artistic piece to Miley.

With her eyes focused on the ceiling, the teenager pondered her current situation. While her wandering thoughts touched on the flashing lights, the pounding music, and her equally pounding feet, they were mainly focused on what her father had brought to her attention days ago. Jake was really a very handsome, generous, and attentive (as long as he wasn't talking) boyfriend. Still, did she really want to be in a relationship with someone that forced her to spend most of their time together thinking of ways to shut him up?

It was such a confusing situation for the girl. It felt like her entire being was in conflict, immobilizing her and refusing to let her stand up and make a decision. Sighing loudly to herself, she wished that someone would stand over her and help her get back on her feet.

* * *

Oliver was standing over her extending his right hand towards her incase she felt like she was ready to stand up and asking if she was alright. It had been a spectacular fall that would live on in the skate park's legend. After the skateboard collision, Lilly had executed a forward somersault in the air before landing hard on her feet. Many of the crowd agreed that she had stuck the landing before falling backwards on her butt. In future years the legend would transform itself into an intentional forward double somersault with a half twist that ended with a perfect landing on top of her own skateboard in order to avoid a helpless beginner who had fallen into the halfpipe. 

Shifting back to the present, Lilly flashed a weak smile at Oliver as she accepted his hand. She had a sneaking suspicion that something had happened, but she wouldn't know for sure until she stood up. The boy pulled her up until she was standing on both of her legs. She was able to hold her position for a couple of seconds before she crumpled forward towards him. It looked like her suspicion had been true. Leaning heavily on Oliver with both of her hands on his shoulders, Lilly stated, "It looks like I sprained my ankle."

There was a pained expression on Oliver's face as he muttered, "I'm so sorry, Lilly. This is my fault."

Lilly shook her head at her best friend and explained, "I'm more to blame than you are. It's not like you forced me to go acid drop into a 540."

The fact that the expression on Oliver's face hadn't changed told Lilly that he was not been paying any attention to her words. In his mind, he had brought this entire situation to fruition: from his prediction hours ago to his confrontation with the idiot who had conveniently disappeared as soon as Lilly had pulled off her Judo Air. After a couple of moments of silence, Oliver suddenly pledged, "Lilly, until your ankle heals, I'm completely under your command. You say it, I'll do it."

Feeling a flush rising on her cheeks, she stared into Oliver's nearby brown eyes, and said in as serious a voice as she could muster under those conditions, "You really don't have to do this, Oliver. I'm a skater, and from time to time we get injured. This isn't really that big of a deal to me."

Lilly was surprised to find those eyes shimmering slightly, as though they were being covered by a slight curtain of tears. In a voice that was forced into a calm state, Oliver pleaded, "Just let me do this for you, Lilly. I'll feel really bad if you don't."

Sighing loudly, she complained, "You're so stubborn sometimes. Fine. Pick up my board and help me towards those steps out of this thing." His pained expression was erased by the relieved smile that took over his face as he bent down to pick up her skateboard. Holding both of their skateboards under his left arm, he allowed Lilly to throw her left arm over his shoulders. His own right arm went to the girl's right hip as he concentrated on helping Lilly move towards the steps out of the halfpipe.

Lilly was glad that he wasn't focusing on her face right now since it was blazing a bright red. She was positive that this had to be the luckiest sprained ankle in the history of the world. At least until she was forced to hop her way up the stairs.

* * *

The couple climbed the steps that led up to Miley's front door even more carefully than they had the last time, this time searching the bushes thoroughly for signs of interlopers. Once they were positive that they were alone, they stood in front of the door simply staring at each other for a while. Like he had last week his face angled in towards hers, meeting no resistance from Miley until their lips met. It was a satisfying kiss from anyone's perspective, with both teens exploring what they had been staring at hungrily moments earlier. 

As soon as it was finished, Miley placed her forehead on Jake's shoulder. The boy was unsurprisingly confused by this move. Usually after the goodnight kiss Miley would hurriedly push him away so that her father wouldn't be able to pull some kind of trick on him. Peering down at the top of her head, Jake asked, "What's wrong, Miley?"

Her head still angled downwards, Miley spoke loud enough for Jake to make out, "You're so handsome, and you're so good to me, Jake."

Jake's face formed a smile easily at the sound of the compliments, and he was prepared to thank her for her words until Miley suddenly raised her face up towards his. Nothing about the evening had prepared him for the tears that were suddenly running down the sides of her face, nor the words she spoke in as lucid a voice as she had ever used on him.

Those words were, "I'm so sorry, but I think we should break up."

* * *

Author's Note: I was contemplating breaking this up into two chapters about halfway through, but it would have ruined the flow of the story in my opinion. I've always wanted to do a parallel type story like this, so I'm glad I got it out of my system. I don't think I'm going to try doing it again for a long time. 

Describing skate tricks using words other than their names is painful. I could have skipped paragraphs of text if I could just say something like, "She kickflipped at the top of the ramp," or, "The Judo Air reached a height of a couple of meters." Unfortunately I doubt that most of the Hannah Montana audience has a usable command of the skater vocabulary. And I didn't misspell poseur.

I would like to extend a very special thank you to the readers who have made it this far into the story. Yes, you. I hope you're still looking forward to the next chapter.


	7. Chapter 7

Miley forced herself to watch Jake's limousine drive away through a thick curtain of tears before finally allowing herself to turn around and unlock her front door. Although her view of the disappearing automobile had a somewhat cathartic effect, there was still an overwhelming feeling of guilt crushing her spirit as she finally gained the strength to open the door. As she stepped inside her living room she felt as though her feet had gained a thousand pounds and her heart had permanently constricted to its minimum size.

Like he usually was when one of his children went out on a date, Robbie Ray was camping out on the living room couch. His hands were occupied with a bowl of food, pretzels this time, and his eyes were supposedly glued to the television screen. Spying Miley from the corner of his eye he patted the couch cushion next to him and held his bowl of pretzels up in her direction.

Careful to keep her reddened eyes and tear soaked face averted from her father's gaze, Miley moved over to the couch, sat down heavily to his left, grabbed the pretzels violently, and placed her head on his shoulder. After a long, comfortable silence with each of the two lulled by the familiarity and stability of their current positioning, Robbie Ray turned his head towards his daughter and softly asked, "Do you want to talk about it, bud?"

It became apparent to the man after his daughter buried her head in the space between the back of his shoulder and the sofa and began sobbing softly that she clearly did not want to talk about it at the moment. Smiling sadly to himself he wrapped his left arm around his daughter, allowing her to bury her face in his broad chest. Stroking her long brown curls gently, he wished that he could say some words of comfort that would reach her right now.

Unfortunately he knew in his heart that nothing he could say would ease the pain she was feeling. While the relationship between the teens hadn't been formed and sustained for the proper reasons, there was no question in Robbie Ray's mind that Miley and Jake had been genuinely attracted to one another. That type of thing was bound to happen when two people with their kinds of magnetic personalities met. That attraction which had been the bond holding their relationship together was a pure connection that would definitely hurt when severed, in spite of the conditions surrounding it.

As a parent, it was more important for him to be a rock for her to cling to as the sheer force of her emotions threatened to pull her under. Any words he said now in her hour of desperation could very easily be distorted and misconstrued by the negative emotions of her situation. He would have to leave the sympathizing to her good friends Lilly and Oliver. For now, he would just hold her and remind her that he was always there for her.

* * *

As Miley entered the door to her bedroom, she felt as though she had emptied out all of the water in her body onto her father's pajama shirt. Taking a peek at her cell phone through strained eyes, she estimated that she had spent over half an hour sobbing on the couch. She felt emotionally, mentally, and somehow even physically exhausted, so falling asleep would not be difficult for her tonight.

After hopping into bed fully dressed, the girl pulled her covers up to her neck before realizing that the had one more task to complete. She somehow managed to stumble out of bed and send a quick text to Lilly before the waves of sleepiness dragged her back under her covers and into slumber land.

* * *

It had been a slow day so far by Jackson's standards. This point of view was not exactly influenced by the number of customers that came by Rico's Surf Shop; it was a sunny day, and the amount of sun that was shining was inversely proportional to how often Jackson was allowed to take a seat while he was tending to the shop. The lethargy Jackson associated with the day actually had to do with the lack of beautiful women who had showed up at his place of work. The day moved far too slowly for the young man when his eyes weren't feasting on a fine example of the female form. With his eyes bored to the point of tears, he kept himself busy during downtime by stacking a ridiculous quantity of consumable items into an elaborate construction that looked vaguely like a monstrous wave when viewed from the right angle with squinting eyes. 

The slow pace of the afternoon lulled the boy into such a depressed state that he almost didn't notice the brunette teenager wearing a slightly damp, white, button-up shirt over a two piece bikini. It was a credit to Jackson's keen girl watching senses that he had managed to spot her out of the corner of his eye as she ascended the stairs that came from the beach.

His face still a blank slate he paid close attention to the area that surrounded the girl, especially to any males within a five foot radius of the beautiful teenager. As he methodically made sure that she was unattached for at least the moment, a grin slowly worked its way onto his face. The game was, as they say, afoot.

The first thing the boy did was dive under the counter, surprising all of the customers who were seated at said counter with both the sudden disappearance of the store worker and the loud thud. What those customers didn't know was that Jackson always kept a can of Axe body spray hidden underneath the counter for such occasions. He had yet to experience the sensation of beautiful women tackling him and ripping his clothing to shreds, but he held out a tiny hope that he would one day run into an Axe vulnerable woman. That hope in addition to the fact that he smelled like he had been working all morning drove him to empty half of the nearly full canister over himself.

Assured that his smell now matched his natural sexiness, Jackson hopped back onto his feet. Although it struck the boy as odd that all of the customers who had been sitting at the counter were either gagging or running away screaming, Jackson focused his attention back on the brunette. She was close enough to the counter for her to hear him, so the boy let out his sexy cough.

He had come up with the idea for this opening move after an insightful evening of watching some animal show on late night television. The teen had been pulled in by the image of two rhinos getting it on, but inspired by the knowledge that some birds were capable of attracting a mate's attention with a burp. If a bird could pull off the wild thing with a burp, surely a good looking human like himself could get a date with one. His first attempts at a dating call were thwarted by screams of, "Gross!" and, "You're disgusting." As the call evolved into a cough, however, he was pleasantly surprised with the results.

Like most girls who heard his sexy cough, the girl suddenly turned in his direction and asked in a concerned voice, "Are you alright?" Jackson could never figure out why they always asked that question after being snared by his sexy cough. He would have been able to figure it out, though, if he was aware that he had somehow managed to develop a cough that sounded convincingly like he was choking to death.

Leaning forward on the counter, Jackson smiled as handsomely as he was able to as he answered, "I'm doing real fine now that you're talking to me."

The girl eyed the teenager critically for a moment before raising her right eyebrow high, shifting her weight backwards, and asking in a flat voice, "Did you need something?"

Jackson was not well known for his perception of reality, but even he could see that he was deep in the process of striking out. He needed to hit a homerun on this next one or this game was over. It was time to pull out the big gun and beat her over the head with it. In a calm voice, the young man asked, "Can I interest you in an ice cold beverage?"

"I don't have any money with me," she stated with an exaggerated shrug of her shoulders.

The shrug had slipped the unbuttoned white shirt off of her right shoulder, so Jackson had to fight hard to keep his voice from cracking when he answered, "This one is on the house."

The girl strode towards the counter steadily until she hit the invisible, thick wall of body spray. Her stride was effectively interrupted by an inaudible gag reflex followed shortly afterwards by tearing eyes. Jackson did not notice the girl's reaction to his scent, however, since he had turned around to pull a plastic bottle of soda from the refrigerator. His back still turned to the girl, the boy took some deep breaths. He had been practicing bar flair tricks relentlessly with a similar bottle back home, but this would be his first time attempting them in public. It was time to see if his blood, sweat, and tears (a literal statement due to Jackson's first attempt at a high toss with his first practice bottle, which happened to be made of glass) had paid off.

Holding the bottle by the neck in his right hand at waist height, he flicked the bottle high in the air using his wrist. The bottle flipped impressively before landing in his outstretched left hand. Once he had a firm grasp on the bottle, he whipped his left arm behind his back, releasing the bottle in an arc that brought the soda up to his right hand which lay waiting over his right shoulder. As he caught the bottle, he turned around to take a peak at the girl. To his surprise, it actually seemed like it was working; her eyes were following the bottle closely and she was smiling delightedly.

Encouraged by the appearance of her teeth, the boy swung his right arm downwards in a pendulum motion, releasing the bottle as it came level with his lower back. The bottle completed the circuit over his right shoulder allowing him to catch it by the neck with his left hand. Holding the bottle directly in front of him, he flicked it directly upwards in the air. It flipped twice before he caught the bottle by the base and immediately tossed it straight up into the air. After a brief slide to the right, the boy stuck his left elbow out as though he were leaning on someone's shoulder. The bottle landed neatly on his extended limb.

His performance was met with wild applause by the customers who were still seated at the bar, as well as the girl who had inspired it. Removing the bottle from his elbow with his right hand, he offered it to the girl with a heavy swagger to his step. She accepted the bottle with a bright smile and a light blush on her cheeks. Things were looking up for Jackson. Right until she actually opened the bottle.

Let it be known that bar flair tricks were designed for open bottles of alcohol, not unopened bottles of soda. When compressed soda is subject to a wide variety of shaking and agitation it has the unfortunate tendency of exploding all over things like an unbuttoned white button-up shirt.

Jackson barely managed to dodge the hurled, almost empty bottle of soda as the drenched girl furiously stalked away to a restroom, but wished immediately afterwards that he had not. The bottle flew over his shoulder and hit the wave model that he had spent all morning building dead on, sending bags of chips and bottles of liquid flying in every direction.

As his eyes took in the destruction of his morning's labor, a familiar female voice called out, "I've been meaning to warn you about that, Bro. If you want to do those tricks 'round here, you really should use a bottle of water."

Jackson slowly looked up from his destroyed work of art to his sister. In a slightly annoyed voice, he stated, "I could have really used that advice up until about a couple of minutes ago, Miles."

Miley shrugged her shoulders innocently as she said in a voice that matched her body movement, "Ooops? Anyways, can I have a bottle of water?" Jackson knelt down and grabbed a bottle from the ground. With a flick of his wrist it was sent flipping in the air towards Miley. The girl somehow managed to bat it towards the ground with her hands before it connected with her face. Before bending down to pick up the water, she angrily spat out, "Jackson, you know I can't catch!"

In a perfect mimicry of his sister, Jackson shrugged his shoulders and parroted, "Ooops?"

The water now in hand, Miley walked back towards the beach chairs she had claimed for herself and Lilly. The text message she had sent before she went to sleep the night before had asked her best friend to meet her at Rico's at around noon. A quick glance down at her cell phone assured her that it was now approaching one o'clock. Although Lilly could be fairly flakey at times, she was actually a very punctual person. She wouldn't be this late without a good reason.

As it turned out there were two very good reasons for Lilly's late appearance. Seconds after seating herself, Miley spotted her best friend limping past Rico's Surf Shop on her pair of plastic, black crutches. Also to her surprise, Lilly was being followed closely by her other best friend, Oliver. Concern overruling curiosity, the girl shot up out of her seat and moved to help Lilly into one of the chairs. As Lilly was in the process of sitting down, Miley finally asked, "Lilly, what happened?"

There was a suspicious look shared between Miley's two best friends before Lilly answered, "Just a skateboarding accident. Oddly, the halfpipe wasn't padded enough for a somersault from about the edge to the bottom."

Grinning wryly at Lilly, Miley joked, "We should write them a letter about that."

Lilly nodded her agreement to Miley and said offhand to Oliver in a professional tone complete with a slight flair of her right wrist, "Oliver, please write up a draft of that letter for my later perusal." Lilly almost jumped out of her seat in consternation when Oliver actually began walking towards Jackson to ask for a pen and paper. After halting the boy's retrieval by tossing one of her sandals at the boy, she complained, "You don't have to take every sentence out of my mouth so literally, you donut!"

Miley slapped Lilly on the shoulder in a congratulatory manner. "That was very nice use of the donut, Lilly. What's up with Oliver anyways?"

Oliver stepped forward then, raising his right pointer finger upwards as he said, "I can answer that question." His face angled downwards as the boy acted on an impulse to hide the shame in his eyes by focusing on the ground he was standing on. His right foot sifted through the sand directly in front of him as he quietly stated, "I'm kind of the reason she's in those crutches, so I've pledged myself to her beck and call until she's healed."

Lilly shook her head at Miley while she clarified, "It really wasn't his fault. I was a couple of feet in the air above the halfpipe when some guy farther down the pipe bailed on his trick." Knowing the Miley wasn't very familiar with skateboarding vernacular, she playfully illustrated a skater bailing on a McTwist attempt using her fingers. As her right finger, which had been playing the part of the skateboard flew away from her left hand's finger legs, she continued, "His skateboard collided with mine while I was on my way down." She silenced Oliver's outburst preemptively with a quick glare before continuing with a cheery voice, "You should have seen me up until that happened, though. I was on fire."

Miley took the spare seat to the right of Lilly, settling in comfortably before saying, "You should have just told me you were on crutches, Lilly. I wouldn't have made you come all the way out here."

Lilly shook her head at her friend before replying, "I prefer being out of the house when my Dad is off and I'm suffering from a skateboarding injury. He likes to try to guilt me out of skateboarding."

"Her Dad can be unusually persuasive with verbal arguments for an accountant," warned Oliver as he took an Indian-style seat in the sand directly in front of the two beach chairs. "One time he almost convinced me to get a crew cut."

There was a long pause in the conversation while all three of the teenagers focused on their personal mental images of Oliver with a crew cut. Lilly was the first to break free of the thought since daydreams about Oliver's appearance were commonplace in her mind. Focusing her attention on Miley, Lilly forced her friend back into reality by asking, "What was so important that you had to send me a text at one in the morning?"

Miley stole a quick glance at Oliver. She hadn't wanted to let him know right away for some odd reason, but she realized that he was going to find out eventually. Miley turned her face back towards Lilly and stated simply, "I broke up with Jake last night."

Lilly could feel the blood draining from her face as her brain wrapped itself around this unexpected news. This break-up had an unusually large number of implications. The immediate concern was that Miley was probably in need of some heavy emotional support at the moment. In addition, an unattached Jake Ryan would leave a vacuum in the social ladder of their high school which girls of all ages, and possibly a teacher or two if one gave any credit to certain rumors, would be vying to fill. The girls' locker room and rest rooms over the next few days of school were going to be filled with interesting political positioning. And lastly, an unattached Miley could lead to something Lilly didn't want to see.

Even though she loathed doing it, Lilly forced herself to take a peek at Oliver before she responded to Miley. The boy's face seemed to be on the verge of breaking out into the biggest grin his mouth size would allow for. The only thing keeping his emotional outburst in check was his empathy towards Miley; a connection that told him that she needed her friends to be sympathetic to her emotions right now.

Pushing her own feelings aside for the moment, Lilly shifted her positioning in the chair so that she was sitting upright with both of her legs turned towards Miley. Leaning her elbows on her knees as she bent towards her friend, she turned a soft smile her way and said simply, "Tell us all about it."

And so she did.


	8. Chapter 8

It had taken a little over an hour and a half to divulge the tale in its entirety. This time would have been reduced significantly if not for the awkward pauses caused by the intermittent appearance of tears in Miley's eyes. Luckily Jackson had the immediate answer for dehydration: a healthy flow of complementary drinks from bottles that had been damaged during the destruction of the wave.

Lilly had managed to keep the soft smile on her face throughout the entire hour and a half, but her facial muscles were now at their limit. When Miley finished her tale and turned her gaze towards the ocean, Lilly quickly angled her face away and began working blood back into her jaw through the aid of her right hand. It took considerable mental fortitude for her to ignore Oliver's puzzled look, but by the time Miley had returned her focus to her friends Lilly's had regained some semblance of control over her mouth. The revived girl reached out with her right hand, patting Miley on her left knee as she asked, "Do you feel better now that you've talked about it?"

Miley nodded her head slowly a few times before verbally answering, "I feel like I've got a lot of it off of my chest, now. I'm sorry that I had to push it onto you guys like this, though."

Oliver finally unleashed the grin that he had been holding back for what seemed like an eternity. "We're your best friends, Miley. If you can't turn to us, then who can you turn to?"

Miley looked away towards the ocean again before saying in a small voice, "I could have just held it in."

"That would be so unhealthy!" exclaimed Lilly as she shook her head emphatically at Miley. "The next time you have something important like this you have to promise to tell me right away. I wouldn't have minded being woken up last night for something like this."

"Me neither," chimed in Oliver as he leaned forward towards the two girls. "I also second the fact that you shouldn't hold something like this in. It would start affecting other aspects of your life with disastrous consequences."

"I can see what you're getting at, Oliver," agreed Lilly sending a nod towards the boy. Turning her face back to Miley, she explained. "Your sunny disposition could be drowned out by a cloud of depression and your "Can do" attitude might be thrown out the window."

Oliver shook his head at Lilly, causing a puzzled expression to form on both of the girls' faces. Having grabbed their attention, he clarified, "I was talking more about her singing. I mean, it's not really my place to critique anything musically, but I don't think Hannah Montana's voice is really suited to Emo music. Also your audience probably isn't ready for a grungy break-up song about smashing in your ex-boyfriend's car window with a golf club."

Lilly removed her other sandal and threw it at Oliver in a remarkably fluid, quick, and accurate motion. While the boy rubbed the growing bump on the side of his head, Lilly declared, "By the powers vested in me, I hereby command Oliver to shut his mouth." Her arms folded in front of her chest before she added, "And keep it shut."

Oliver jumped on to his feet suddenly in protest of this slightly unexpected abuse of power. "I never gave you control over my mouth!"

Lilly sent a subtle smirk towards Miley before lurching forward dramatically and clutching at her wrapped left foot with her hands. "Oh, it hurts so badly," she complained. Oliver's mouth closed then and he sunk back towards the ground like a deflated balloon. Unable to voice any of his thoughts, he looked up towards the two girls pathetically.

"You really need to work on Oliver's puppy dog look," suggested Miley as the two girls turned away from his squinting face.

"You have no idea how much work I had to put in to get him up to that point," complained Lilly as her mind drifted back in time. "Isn't that right Oliver?"

Oliver nodded his agreement. "Yeah, before …"

"Did I give you permission to talk!?" demanded Lilly suddenly. The boy shrunk in stature, his cowering eyes displaying the full extent of his submission. "Oh, that's much better. Anyways, Miley, I need to head back home. I have a test tomorrow that I haven't studied for."

Miley smiled at Lilly as she said, "That's fine. I guess I should be heading home too. Mind if I walk you home?"

"No objections here. Let's go, Oliver. Fetch those sandals I tossed at you," commanded Lilly accompanied by a shooing motion of her hands.

As Oliver stood up and silently searched the area for Lilly's sandal, Miley remarked, "I take back what I said earlier. He's got that puppy dog look down pat."

Lilly grinned at her best friend as she gathered her crutches from the side of her beach chair. In a matter-of-fact voice, she stated, "You just have to know how to push his buttons."

* * *

As the trio approached the steps towards Lilly's front door, Miley decided that she really didn't want to be alone. The walk home had been uneventful, yet surprisingly pleasant for her. Their easily formed, spontaneous conversation had meandered around aimlessly and touched on everything except for Jake. It had been the first set of waking moments since last night that Miley's mind had been able to focus on something other than the break up. If she were suddenly alone again, she had a feeling that her mind was going to slide back towards that bottomless pit. Miley halted her forward momentum before reaching out and tapping Lilly on her left shoulder. Once Lilly had stopped and turned towards her, Miley asked in a hopeful voice, "Wanna come to the mall with me, Lilly?"

Lilly smiled sadly at her friend as she explained, "I would love to, but I think I'm at the limits of my crutch walking for today. Besides, trying on clothes without full use of your legs isn't that fun, trust me." The girl demonstrated this point by attempting to pull on a pair of imaginary pants. The motion faintly resembled an awkward form of the Chicken Dance. Grinning ruefully at Miley, Lilly continued, "Plus, I really need to study for this test. I think I'm straddling the line between a B and a C right now, and I need that B or I'm not going to C my allowance."

Oliver burst forward suddenly, pantomiming his disgust at Lilly's horrible pun by scrunching up his face and holding up his hands. Having stolen Lilly's attention, he wordlessly asked her a question. First he pointed to himself and then acted as though he were telling a joke. After holding his nose and waving his hand as though something smelled unpleasantly, he clamped both of his hands over his mouth. Next, he pointed to Lilly and went through the same motions, but instead of slapping his hands over his mouth, continued to act as though he were talking.

"It's because I'm allowed to make bad jokes," explained Lilly slowly, nodding her head at the end of each word as though she were educating a young child. "I have the power, remember?" Oliver sighed and lethargically bobbed his head in an understanding motion.

Miley couldn't help but smile at the interplay between her two friends. They had helped take her mind off of Jake for an afternoon, and that was enough for her. Stepping backwards from the pair, she hesitantly said, "Well, I guess I'll see you two tomorrow." She waved at Oliver and Lilly before turning around and strolling away from the house with her arms hanging limply at her sides.

Oliver waved sadly towards Miley before bounding up Lilly's steps. He began opening her front door with the keys that Lilly had tossed to him once Miley had begun walking away. While Oliver fiddled with the keys, Lilly silently observed the slightly slumped form of her best friend. It was an unusual sight since Miley usually stood up straight and tall with an enviable posture. Lilly's head then turned back towards Oliver who seemed to be having great difficulty figuring out which of the two keys on her keychain opened her door.

The girl's eyes closed slowly, as she checked to make sure that she really was at her crutch walking limit for the day. Her meditative reflection assured her that she was indeed in need of some quality couch time. Sighing deeply, she realized that there really was only one option available.

Miley stopped at the abrupt sound of Lilly yelling, "Come back here, Miley." Miley turned around and jogged over to where Lilly was still standing. A small smile was on Lilly's face as she announced, "I'm going to loan you my man servant for a day."

"You're gonna what?" asked Miley incredulously as she leaned backwards on her right foot.

"It's not like I'm going to need him for anything else today," stated Lilly nonchalantly with a shrug. "I'm just going to be studying."

"Still, it's not like he's a piece of property that you can trade away," argued Miley as she motioned towards the boy with both of her hands.

In what seemed like the blink of an eye, Oliver had moved from Lilly's front door to the space between the two girls. A rapid fire sequence of words shot out of his mouth in the following order, "I have absolutely no problem with this arrangement."

"See?" questioned Lilly tersely, the small smile still on her face. "Have him keep you company at the mall. You and I both know that he can carry more than a handful of bags."

"Well, alright," said Miley in a grateful tone. "We'll see you tomorrow, Lilly." The brunette waved her right arm in a farewell gesture before turning around and walking towards the road.

"I'll be here bright and early tomorrow morning," stated Oliver in a loud voice. As he moved towards her to place the keys in her hands, he leaned his head in close and mouthed, "Thank you so much. I owe you big. Huge." He stretched his arms out to their full length in an attempt of physically demonstrating how much he owed her. Lilly rolled her eyes and pushed the boy away towards their fleeing friend. Backpedaling on the balls of his feet, he tossed her one last, wide grin before turning around and jogging towards Miley.

Lilly watched her two best friends disappear down the road before turning around and hopping her way up her front steps. Her small smile had disappeared by then, replaced by a calm expression. After letting herself inside of the house, she moved towards her brown, leather, living room couch and began searching the immediate area for the sneaky remote control to the big screen television which sat imposingly in front of her.

The girl's search was interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs that connected the first and second floor of her home. She didn't have enough time to escape thanks to her injured condition, so she took to sitting up straight on the couch. Her father entered the room and sat down heavily on his leather recliner after sending a nod of greeting towards his daughter. With a combination of his socked right foot and his extended upper limbs, he managed to retrieve the daily newspaper from the coffee table directly in front of him without removing his torso from the chair. There was an extended moment of paper rustling, but then her father was effectively barricaded behind his copy of the New York Times.

The teenager raised an eyebrow at the paper barrier before looking around to make sure someone wasn't pulling a prank on her. Curiosity won over caution, and Lilly's voice quietly asked, "Why aren't you lecturing me about skateboarding, Dad?"

Her father brought down his newspaper wall quickly. His eyes scanned the living room as he asked, "Isn't Oliver supposed to be guarding you today?"

Realization quickly dawned over Lilly's face. Her father only lectured her about things when she was alone. One of the smaller perks of having Oliver following her around was that her father hadn't talked her ear off yet. Unfortunately, it appeared that it was time for her ears to face the music. In a monotone voice Lilly said, "He went to the mall with Miley."

Instead of the expected statistics of skaters who were admitted into a hospital daily, Lilly's dad let out a surprised, "Hmm?"

Her eyebrows continued to furrow at her father, but Lilly decided to go with a change of topic by pleading, "Look, Dad, can we just get the anticipated "Skateboard Scolding" out of the way?"

Mr. Truscott leaned back on his recliner, folding up his newspaper neatly and placing it on the right arm of his chair. His eyes looking towards the ceiling of the living room, he recalled, "One time when you and Oliver were about eight you came home with a scraped knee."

"I remember that," acknowledged Lilly as she once again took up the search for the missing remote control. "We had been riding our bikes. Oliver had dared me to ride off of a makeshift ramp."

Her father nodded his head sagely. "Back then, Oliver promised he would protect you until it healed. He absolutely refused to go home until we were able to take the bandage off."

Lilly laughed suddenly as her memory became more focused. "We barricaded ourselves in my room until you guys agreed to let him sleepover."

"I'll never forget how fiercely he fought to stay by your side," grinned Lilly's dad. "When I picked you guys up from the skate park I had a very vivid flashback of the whole affair. I spent the entire ride home thinking of effective ways to break down your door if you two put up the old barricade."

Lilly tossed a throw pillow at her father as a blush spread to her cheeks. "Dad, we're not eight anymore."

Having caught the throw pillow, Mr. Truscott twirled it between his hands. His eyes angled down towards the pillow as he said in a soft voice, "Obviously not. There's no way eight-year-old Oliver would have left your side."

Her own voice just as soft, Lilly said, "He would have left if I told him to." Having found the remote underneath the throw pillow, Lilly flipped on the television and focused her eyes on the moving, colorful images.

Her father's eyes moved from the rotating pillow to his daughter. "You told him to go with Miley?"

Lilly shifted her own gaze to her father and nodded affirmatively. "Miley really needed a friend right now, and I'm just not in the right condition. Besides, it's what they both wanted, anyway."

"That makes a lot more sense then," said her father with a tone of conclusion to his voice. Mr. Truscott picked up his newspaper and began rebuilding his paper wall. Just as he was about flip up the paper, however, he commented, "You're a good friend, Lilly."

Lilly's jaw clenched suddenly as her vision became slightly blurry. "That's right Dad," she affirmed in a tight voice. "I'm the best friend. I'm always the best friend."

His daughter's voice forced him to drop his newspaper into his lap and take a good look at her. Unfortunately for his hope of visual confirmation she had already stood up, turned her back towards her father, and begun limping her way towards the stairs. His mind raced suddenly as he realized that his daughter was hurting in a way that he could not protect her from.

Lilly had already begun hopping up the stairs when her father suddenly called out, "Lilly, wait a moment." Lilly ceased her hopping, but dared not turn around and show her father her tearstained face. "You know, your mother and I are very proud of what a great, giving heart you have. You're the type of person who would give up her arm to help a friend in need." Lilly began her hopping again, but she was still able to hear her father say, "I just want you to know that sometimes it's ok … it's expected to be selfish." After hearing that sentence, she finished her ascent up the rest of stairs at an accelerated pace.

From his seat in the living room, Lilly's dad could make out the sounds of some furious hopping followed closely by a slammed door. That sharp noise was soon lost underneath the loudest silence he had come across in a while. Alone with his thoughts, Mr. Truscott focused his eyes on the coffee table as he quietly finished, "Especially if you want something so badly that it can move a brightly shining ball of energy like you into silent tears." Sighing to himself, he picked the newspaper up off of his lap and attempted to focus on the small black print as the television softly hummed and silence of the floor above him roared deafeningly.


	9. Chapter 9

The teenagers ambled lazily down the boardwalk on their way to the Malibu Mall. Not many words were shared between the two, each of the teens' attention primarily being drawn towards the beach and the ocean. Although the afternoon was quickly winding down towards the evening, the weather was pleasant; ensuring that the nearby hills of sand would be filled with a healthy number of diehard beach bums well after the sun finally chose to settle down for the night.

Oliver was the first to finally break the extended silence. At the time, his attention had been drawn towards a spirited game of beach volleyball that was occurring in the distance. Four players gathered around the net clothed in tight fitting swimsuits. As a lean man in blue trunks prepared to serve the ball, Oliver asked offhandedly, "Twice in one week, eh? What do you need to buy at the mall this time?"

Peering with disinterest at the same game, Miley answered, "Oh, generally I never really need to buy something when I go to the mall." Her eyes shifted to Oliver as she spoke, allowing her to notice a smirk plastered on the boy's face. Her eyes now narrowing, Miley wheeled towards her companion and shoved her right pointer finger at his face as she accused, "You think I'm some kind of shopaholic."

Oliver's shoulders shrugged nonchalantly before he reasoned, "Well, it is pretty weird to want to go shopping twice in the span of a few days; especially if you don't need to buy anything in particular."

"You don't understand!" exclaimed Miley as she threw her hands up in an exasperated motion. "Going shopping for me isn't about spending money or buying things."

Intrigued, Oliver removed his eyes from what looked to be a spectacular spike from the height of the jumping female volleyball player and directed them towards the girl at his side. The smirk still dancing on his lips, he commented, "That's impressive to completely ignore the basics of what you're doing. Why do you go shopping then?"

Miley shifted her weight on her right leg, resting her right elbow over her crossed left arm as her right finger rested on her chin. Oliver had a few moments to take an accurate mental picture of Miley's contemplative pose before she answered, "I guess I use the mall to calm my nerves, clear my head, and forget about the world," listed Miley thoughtfully. "You know, kind of like meditating."

"That's an expensive way to meditate," chuckled Oliver as he remembered the mountain of bags he had been carrying around Wednesday night. It had been a happy day, but his arms had paid the price. His overused limbs had been extremely sore over the next couple of days.

"Obviously you've never heard of meditation courses," parried Miley as she playfully nudged her friend with her right elbow.

Oliver acknowledged his ignorance with a nod of his head. The idea of spending money to clear his head was completely foreign to him. When he wanted to forget the world, he would play video games, or surf, or go to the spot. The first two were not for a girl like Miley, but the last one actually had some promise.

The boy took a quick glance at the area to make sure he was exactly where he thought he was. Once he was certain of himself, he focused his attention on Miley and confidently boasted, "I'll bet you dinner that if you let me drag you somewhere about 15 minutes from here, I can show you something that will clear your mind better than the world's largest SuperMall."

"That's a pretty wild boast there, bud," said Miley through a smile. After taking a quick peek at her watch to determine what time it would be in 15 minutes, she stated with a challenging tone to her voice, "I'll take that bet." Once she had accepted the wager, the girl waited expectantly for Oliver to direct her towards wherever he was about to take her. A couple of silent moments spent staring at each other passed before the girl finally asked, "Shouldn't we be going somewhere now?"

Oliver threw Miley a puzzled look as he asked, "Isn't it Tennessee tradition to spit on our hands and shake on it?"

"If you dare spit on your hand, I'm never letting you touch me again," warned Miley as she fixed her narrowing eyes on him.

"And if I spit on yours?" asked Oliver with a straight face.

"You wouldn't dare," uttered Miley as her narrowed eyes widened in shock. When the sound of flem being gathered issued forth from the boy's throat, Miley scattered backwards a good five feet. It wasn't until she was a safe distance away that she noticed a mischievous grin on his face. Shaking her head at him, she complained, "I really thought you were going to do it!"

"How little faith she has in her best friend!" proclaimed Oliver, his head and voice angled towards the heavens.

"Yeah, yeah," muttered Miley. "I bet if I threatened to hock a loogie at you, you would run away too."

"I would swap spit with you anytime, Miley," said Oliver without thinking, not realizing until immediately afterwards that he had voiced one of his rather private desires. As beads of sweat gathered on his forehead, he searched Miley's face for a reaction to his words.

Luckily she seemed to have taken it as the joke it ought to have been. Shaking her head with a smile touching her lips, she said, "You say the weirdest stuff sometimes."

Oliver let out his tension in a quick laugh. Nodding in a different direction than the mall, he directed, "This way then, so we can make it in time for you to buy me dinner."

Still shaking her head, Miley followed Oliver into the distance.

* * *

It seemed to Miley that she had already won the bet since she had been crawling on her hands and knees for what felt like a full 15 minutes. To get to the shrubbery that Miley was currently attempting to bypass, Oliver had first led her through a residential area whose mean resident age was definitely in the mid 70s. The houses matched their owners: diminutive, antiquated, but showing signs of vibrant life. Victory gardens loaded with vegetables and garnished with American flags were prominently displayed on more than a few front yards, and the streets were lined with oversized cars designed with angular geometries in mind and covered in dull primary paint jobs. 

Miley wouldn't have been surprised if they had been the youngest people to walk down that road in a year or so. From underneath the comfort of roofed porches, the older residents couldn't seem to stop themselves from either calling out to the two teenagers or simply staring at them with undisguised interest. Many of the calls were directed solely at Oliver: either in congratulations for snatching up a beautiful girlfriend or disapproval for bringing such a nice looking girl to a boring neighborhood. Miley took the calls in stride, but the same couldn't be said of Oliver. By the time they had arrived at the shrubbery enclosed cul-de-sac, the young man's face was a deep shade of crimson.

It had taken him a few moments to regain his composure, but Oliver had eventually managed to suggest that they were going to be going straight into the shrubbery. Miley had protested vehemently at first, claiming she wasn't designed to crawl around in the dirt, but Oliver countered by reciting the terms of the bet. For fifteen minutes, she had to go wherever he suggested.

And so she crouched down and followed Oliver through the thick vegetation. At first, Miley was sure that they would end up in a dead end of trunks, branches, and leaves. After a few moments of clinging to that hope, she finally noticed that they seemed to be crawling through a makeshift tunnel. The size of the tunnel suggested that it had been dug out by a medium sized animal, allowing the two teens to make proper use of it.

Finally, somewhat ahead of her, Oliver seemed to have exited the tunnel. Picking up her pace, Miley was rewarded with the familiar, cool breeze of the ocean brushing against her face. Soon she had exited the tunnel and after accepting Oliver's offered hand, was standing next to him relatively comfortably.

The two teens were standing on top of a downwards sloping outcropping of rock. The rock continued from the end of the path to about ten feet before taking what Miley assumed was a sheer, long drop downwards. From her position, Miley guessed that it was equally as wide, with the rest of the ground disappearing into the overgrown mass of trees and shrubbery that they had just gone through. Aside from a boulder-like structure that existed in the center and seemed to grow out of the floor like a large, rounded mineral weed, the outcropping was extremely barren with infrequent patches of grass displaying their resilience in a random manner.

While her current position didn't seem to warrant 15 minutes of walking and crawling, the view was another matter entirely. From where Miley was standing, it was impossible to not take notice of the endless ocean as it rhythmically ebbed and flowed in reverence to the whims of the moon. There were a handful of ships of varying sizes weaving through the waves in the waning afternoon sun, but their paths seemed insignificant to the girl due to the sheer massiveness of the ocean and the simple beauty of the sunset. The sky through which the sun shone projected a furious image of red, orange, and gold that pierced through the lazy clouds and forced a reflection of itself on the normally uncontrollable ocean.

Oliver paid no attention to the natural beauty of the scene, instead focusing on that of the girl next to him. She stood with her hands at her sides, her mouth opened slightly; an endearing mannerism that the boy had noticed in the past when she had been struck speechless. The ocean breeze continued to throw itself against them, whipping Miley's hair in random directions and bringing her sweet scent mingled with that of the salty ocean air directly to Oliver's nose. The sunset that she was so avidly gazing at was reflected in her eyes, allowing the large, blue orbs a unique kiss of flame. In addition, the fading sun threw shadows against her beautiful form, teasing the boy with glimpses of the images that he had committed to heart long ago.

Miley's focus was finally broken when Oliver tapped her on the shoulder and indicated towards the boulder in front of them with a flourish of his left arm. Shaking her head at Oliver, the girl protested, "We're up way too high. I'm fine from here."

Oliver shook his head right back at her, saying, "The reason for coming all the way over here is to sit on that boulder."

"I can see why you brought me here from where I'm standing," complained Miley, backing up until she reassuringly felt the bushes touching her back.

Oliver moved to stand directly in front of Miley, looking her directly in the eyes as he asked, "You trust me, right?" After Miley strongly nodded, Oliver immediately extended his right hand towards her.

A handful of seconds passed while Miley's eyes shifted between Oliver's hand, his eyes, and the ocean which seemed to be waiting for them an impossibly long distance below. Finally, gulping down her fear like she had done during her early Hannah Montana performances, their hands intertwined and they took slow, steady steps towards the stone seat.

Oliver indicated exactly where Miley should sit and which direction she should face. Once that was accomplished, with great mental effort he attempted to remove his hand from hers. To his great surprise, her hand clamped down onto his, refusing to relinquish her hold. Hiding his happiness, he took a seat next to her. Because of the small size of the boulder, he ended up sitting slightly behind the girl, and so he gazed down on the view he had brought her there for from over her left shoulder.

After one peak at the view, Miley felt her breath catch in her throat. She didn't regain control over her lungs until after she had fully taken in what lay before her eyes. From where she was sitting, it was difficult to see any of the crags that they were situated on top of. Instead, Miley had a direct view of everything that lay before her, as though she were floating in an elevated position. The first thing she noticed was the beginning of the boardwalk. The stores that surrounded the wooden planks were preparing for the early evening, their bright signs lit and attempting to attract people who had decided to take an evening stroll. In front of the boardwalk lay the beach, which still had a number of occupants who absolutely refused to leave until the mesmerizing sun, which Miley still had a good view of, decided to quit for the day. Behind the boardwalk, a variety of buildings both businesslike and residential stood proudly, showing signs of life.

Her observatory trance was again interrupted by Oliver, who this time softly asked, "So, what do you think? Is your mind off of Jake?"

Miley turned her head towards her companion, favoring him with her brightest smile as she whispered, "It's perfect."

Feeling self-conscious as their eyes met and intensely aware of the softness of the hand he was holding, Oliver said with a slowly reddening face, "You should just pretend I'm not here for maximum effect."

"I couldn't do that. I mean, this place, it's great," said Miley indicating the view with her free, right hand, "But it's pretty scary. I couldn't imagine coming here without you." She added emphasis to her statement by squeezing on his hand almost imperceptibly. The boy felt it, however, since it seemed that every fiber of his being was focused on his hand. Oliver knew in his head that she actually meant she couldn't come here alone, but he allowed himself to indulge in a private fantasy as they sat on the boulder in silence, gazing down on the live scene playing out beneath them.

The sun eventually died down for the day, but before it did, it had a view of the two teenagers sitting high above the world. From their position, the actions of the individual humans they were watching must have seemed insignificant before the aesthetic beauty of the picture before them. Their physical position in the world linked together as closely as their hands, their hearts raced at near identical speeds for different reasons. The girl's beat for the excitement of a new discovery thanks to the help of a friend she found she trusted above any other man in the world, short of her father. The boy's beat for the chance to share a special moment with the girl who he spent many waking and sleeping hours thinking about.

* * *

It wasn't until long after the sun set that Miley realized that they were sitting in close to total darkness. The sun had been replaced by the moon, and the amount of people she could see on the beach had all but vanished. Turning her whole body towards Oliver as a sign that she was satisfied with what she had seen, Miley said, "I guess I owe you dinner." 

Oliver drew her attention towards one of the stores on the boardwalk by indicating it with his left hand. It was a small store, as brightly lit as those around it, set apart only because of the small scattering of picnic tables laying in front of it. Once she spotted the building, he divulged, "That place sells amazing hotdogs, two for a dollar. Get me about four, and we'll call it even."

"Deal," agreed Miley. "Now, how do we get down there?"

"We have two options," stated Oliver calmly. "I guess you could say the safer one is that we go back through the bushes."

Miley turned her head to look at the bushes. It had been difficult to see where she was going when the sun was still up. It was going to be near impossible now that it had set. Looking back at Oliver, she asked, "What's the other option?"

"You let me lead you down the rocks behind where you're sitting," answered Oliver cautiously. Noticing the tightened facial expression this elicited from Miley, Oliver continued, "I know it sounds bad, but I've done it millions of times before in close to complete darkness. It's faster, and the moon is pretty full so it really shouldn't be a problem."

Again, Miley turned her head this time to peer at the rocks. The small tightening of her stomach that she expected to feel when faced with a situation of this caliber surprisingly did not appear. Taking the hint from her body, Miley stated resolutely, "We'll go down the rocks, then."

"Really?" asked Oliver, the surprise in his voice mirrored on his face. "I was almost positive you were going to want to head through the bushes."

A large grin found its way onto the girl's face as she said, "Well, normally that would be my preference, but you really seem to want to go down the rocks." Her eyes once again connected with the boy next to her as she claimed, "I trust you, Oliver."

"That means more to me than you think it does, Miley," said Oliver solemnly as he stood up and stretched a bit. As he stretched, he let go of the girl's hand for the first time in what seemed like hours. The cool evening air enveloped his empty right hand, forcing him to realize what he had just let go of.

Miley took the opportunity to stretch also, taking a few steps towards the proposed rock path. It wasn't as steep as she had imagined when she first stepped out onto the outcropping, but it wasn't something that she would have been comfortable going down alone. Looking back towards Oliver, she extended her left hand towards him. Oliver accepted her hand with a blush that was thankfully hidden by the darkness of the evening. Bound through their entwined fingers, the two teenagers started steadily down the path that would lead them down to the beach below.


	10. Chapter 10

"Pass me a bran muffin, please," asked a sleepy, but still authoritative voice from behind his newspaper barrier. Lilly complied wordlessly, leaning forward to place the muffin directly in front of her father. She had polished off her cereal in record time this morning, a sign of her anxiousness at what was awaiting her in the near future.

Last night, Oliver had promised to borrow one of his parents' cars to drive her to and from school. Receiving news of this plan at almost midnight the night beforehand, she had not immediately agreed to the plan. In addition to its suddenness, a car ride to Seaview High School, which only lay blocks away from her house would dramatically cut down on the alone time she had been looking forward to as a result of her sprained ankle. Despite Lilly's protests, the boy seemed to have been possessed of an unnatural confidence, absolutely refusing to take no for an answer. Lilly had been forced to agree to the arrangement, leading to her current situation.

Sitting at her dining room table, her eyes attached themselves to the front door of her house and tenaciously clung to the solid block of mahogany. Any second now the doorbell would ring and she would be released from the paper prison her father had set before her and into the easy smile of Oliver. As if playing antagonist to her thoughts, her dad called out, "You know, it's impossible to will him to appear with your eyes."

"You never know until you try, Dad," said Lilly quickly, a twinge of annoyance peeking through her words.

The top half of Mr. Truscott's newspaper folded down, an action Lilly noticed with her ears. Looking at the back of his daughter's blond head, the man asked, "Are you sure you don't want me to drive you to school instead? He's probably going to be driving … that thing."

"I'm sure, Dad," answered Lilly curtly, exasperation no longer taking a back seat to politeness.

From the nearby kitchen, Lilly's mother, or rather her voice, entered into the fray by soothingly saying, "Leave her alone, honey. She just wants to ride to school alone with Oliver." Her tone effortlessly transformed into an accusatory one as she added, "We wanted the same type of thing when we were her age."

"Mom!" squealed Lilly as a deep blush rose to her cheeks.

Unable to stand alone against the two most important women in his life, Mr. Truscott prepared to bring his newspaper back up to full mast. Before it came back up, he loudly muttered, "I just don't feel that that thing is a safe enough vehicle for our little girl. I mean …" his musings were interrupted by the loud sputtering of an engine as it struggled against the upwards inclining road. As his newspaper finally rose, he finished, "Speak of the devil's chariot."

Lilly shot her father a withering look which harmlessly bounced off of the front page of the New York Times. The mission of the look unaccomplished, she bent down to gather up her crutches and zoom away from her dining room table. By the time her doorbell rang she had already managed to move over to the front door and put on her sneakers. Because of these preparations, before Oliver's finger had even left the doorbell ringer, a blonde blur had opened the door and rushed past him.

Oliver sent a vigorous greeting complete with a wide smile and a generous wave to Lilly's parents before closing the front door and following after the girl. By the time he caught up to her, her back was leaning against the sports utility vehicle that her father refused to even acknowledge as an automobile. As the boy opened the passenger seat door for her, she teased, "I can't believe you agreed to drive the hot pink SUV."

"I've told you before; it's really, really light red," joked Oliver as he took Lilly's crutches and tossed them onto the backseat.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," conceded Lilly as she adjusted her position in the passenger seat.

With a dreamy grin on his face, Oliver confessed under his breath, "Oh, I slept like a baby last night."

"What was that?" called the girl as he crossed the front of the automobile to get to the driver's seat.

The boy let out a quick, "Nothing," as he climbed into the SUV. Once seated, he gave away his status as a new driver by going through the elaborate ritual of checking everything around him.

While he nervously re-adjusted the mirrors away from and back towards their original positions, Lilly asked, "What's the story behind this thing again? Your mom won it or something, right?"

Turning the key in the ignition and listening intently to the engine as it roared into life, he corrected, "It's more like no one won it. It was a leftover from a police auction."

"I thought those auctions sold things for incredibly cheap," said Lilly as she looked around the interior. A faded shade of light brown covered every inch of the cabin and the felt roof covering was ripped at random intervals.

"I think it was going for 50 bucks or something," recalled Oliver as he finally shifted the car into gear.

A cold sweat broke out on the girl's forehead as her mind puzzled over why a working car with a price tag of 50 dollars would be passed over. Lending voice to her thoughts, she questioned, "What's wrong with it? Was it used for some evil purpose? Is it going to fall apart any second now?"

Oliver's current posture again gave away how recently he had received his license. The teen's face was stuck in a straightforward position, his hands glued to the steering wheel, and his eyes jumping from the road, to the mirrors, and back again. His body locked in the intense posture, his seemingly disconnected voice easily answered, "Well, the gas gauge doesn't work, the muffler is shot, there is no suspension to speak of, and the air conditioning is frustratingly incompetent at its job." Oliver allowed a couple of moments for his words to sink in before turning his head towards Lilly and adding with a grin, "Plus, I don't think there are many people that can truly appreciate the color of really, really light red."

Lilly burst into laughter easily, as she always did when Oliver was around. She could have really used him last night after the exchange of words with her father. At least he was probably able to help Miley out of her funk. "How was the mall last night, by the way?"

Oliver's muscles tightened suddenly. He had warned Miley the night before not to tell Lilly that he had showed her the spot. Miley had been against lying to their best friend, a position Oliver had agreed with. His plan didn't call for lying so much as a lack of full disclosure. Going along with the plan, he said, "It was a normal walk to the mall."

"Normal walk, eh?" asked Lilly as she leaned her head towards the open window. As she felt the wind flow through her hair, she wistfully said, "It must have been nice to walk normally." Oliver's eyes took an automatic peak at Lilly's wrapped ankle, interrupting his road/mirror shuffle. As his eyes shifted back to the road, Lilly asked, "So how are your arms feeling? They were killing you after the last time she dragged you along, weren't they?"

"Oh, Miley actually didn't buy anything yesterday," said Oliver. Noticing the girl looking at him questioningly out of the corner of his eye, Oliver added quickly, "She had just gone shopping a few days before, after all."

"That's still pretty surprising, actually," said Lilly, her eyes moving towards the roof as she tried to recall the last time Miley had walked away from the mall with her empty-handed.

Desperate to change the subject, Oliver asked, "So how is your ankle feeling?"

Lilly's eyes moved towards her ankle as she rolled it experimentally. "I should be able to walk within a week, I'm guessing. I shouldn't get back up on the skateboard for a little longer, though."

As Lilly moved on to what she planned to do when she could walk normally, Oliver silently prayed that Miley wouldn't run into any trouble dodging the question of where they had gone the day before.

* * *

"So did you have that test yet?" Miley asked Lilly as she mindlessly forked through her salad. 

"I'm pretty sure I did ok," answered Lilly, rounding out her uneasy sentence with a shrug of her shoulders. "I'll find out in a couple of days, so no use worrying about it now."

Miley nodded approval of her friend's attitude. "I wish I could think like that," admitted Miley wistfully. "If I were you, I would spend every waking moment thinking about it." Lilly's eyes locked onto Miley's as a silent warning to not continue. Unfortunately, Miley seemed not to have noticed her friend's silent plea, so she continued, "I would be worrying if I put any of the questions down wrong, you know those stupid mistakes that show up every now and then." Lilly's pleading eyes left her friend's as she began to replay the test process in her mind. "Oh, and if I could remember any fragment of any test question, I would be searching a textbook for the answer."

Just as Lilly had managed to remove a hefty textbook from her red messenger bag, Oliver's voice announced from directly behind her in a horrible French accent, "Lunch has arrived, mademoiselle." Balancing two trays of school lunches on his arm, Oliver carefully sat down on the bench to the left of Lilly and slid a serving of spaghetti and meatballs in front of her.

"Thanks, Oliver," muttered Lilly, her attention drawn to the textbook on her lap that she was feverishly flipping through.

Turning his own attention towards Miley, the boy asked, "What's wrong with her?" Miley claimed ignorance with a shrug of her shoulders as she chewed on a mouthful of dressing soaked roughage. After peeking over Lilly's right shoulder for a little bit, Oliver's gaze shifted back to Miley. The eye contact between the two teens was as effective as a hastily scribble note passed during class, and Oliver came to understand that Lilly had been trapped inside of test paranoia for a reason.

After the boy had begun unwrapping his cheeseburger, Miley went back to worrying at her salad. Although Oliver had explained the reasoning behind their deception over his hotdog smorgasbord the night before, Miley still wasn't sure if she had grasped the concept fully. There had been something about a bored afternoon, a big, black dog, and a senile grandparent. Normally Miley would have been able to follow the story, but Oliver had told it between, and occasionally through, mouthfuls of hotdog. Although he had only billed Miley for four of them, the boy had continued to eat through at least double that number. The general gist of it was that Oliver had sworn to Lilly, apparently upon penalty of death by tickling, that he would never reveal the location to another human being.

What really puzzled Miley was how easily she had agreed to the plan. While she considered both of her lunch mates her best friends, the female factor had always made her feel closer to Lilly. Because of that, while Lilly and Miley withheld things from Oliver from time to time, it was the first time that she had entered into such a confidence with Oliver. There had been something about that night that had changed her opinion of him. Maybe it was the fact that he had broken an ancient promise solely for her sake. Perhaps it was the manly presence and confidence that he exuded as he led her down the rock path towards the beach. Then again, it could have been something as simple as the way that he had wolfed down his stack of hot dogs, which had reminded her powerfully of her father.

Her musing was interrupted by the all too familiar sound of a crowd of girls hovering around an idol. Lifting her gaze from her salad, she was greeted with the sight of Jake Ryan carrying a large, cloth covered bundle in his arms. As he approached Miley, Jake's swarm of adoring fans scattered to the four corners of the lunch room.

The superstar stood impressively tall and handsome before Miley. After making eye contact with the girl, his face turned towards her friends. Displaying an actor's dazzling smile and soothing voice, he asked, "Can I have some privacy with my girlfriend, guys?"

Blushing, Lilly prepared to vacate her position. She was surprised when she felt Oliver's hand on her left shoulder, pushing down slightly to indicate that they weren't going to be moving. Turning her face towards Oliver, she found that he was looking towards Miley, who seemed to be looking straight back at him. An icy feeling spread through Lilly's chest along with the realization that she was the odd man out. As she began to wrestle with her feelings, Oliver, with his eyes still locked on Miley's, calmly stated, "I don't think we're going anywhere, Jake."

The eye contact between Miley and Oliver was noticeable even to the impossibly dense action movie star, but he decided to ignore it as he moved to the left of Miley and placed his bundle on the table. Taking a seat, he continued to use his dazzling smile and soothing voice while he said, "Miley, I don't know what I did, but I'm really sorry."

Miley refused to become ensnared by Jake's good looks so she glued her eyes to her salad. "It's not something you can control, Jake," she said softly as she rolled a sun dried tomato with her fork.

"Then why hold it against me?" asked Jake smoothly. "Take me for what I am: a superstar, handsome, great-looking, cute, hot, and deeply in love with Miley Stewart."

"Look, Jake," started Miley, finally picking her gaze up from her lunch.

"No, no. You look, Miley," interrupted Jake. He had been waiting for her to look up from her salad before he revealed the identity of his bundle. Taking a firm grip on the cloth, he yanked it away with a dramatic flourish.

Hidden underneath the covering was a heart shaped wreath. A closer look revealed that the red and green item was composed entirely of woven roses and sprigs of mistletoe. In the middle of the wreath a blown up picture of Miley and Jake standing together was displayed prominently. It would have been a very romantic gesture if not for the contents of the picture.

"That's me in the swan dress … with my arms up … with the fake armpit hair!" sputtered a horrified Miley as her eyes bounced from detail to horrible detail.

"It's the only picture I could find with the two of us together," said Jake, leaning backwards to get a full view of his present. After staring at it intently, he turned towards Miley and honestly asked, "I look nice, right?"

Groaning, Miley removed her eyes from the picture long enough to survey the area. A sizeable group had gathered around the lunch table, all of whom were now either laughing or at the very least snickering. Even Lilly and Oliver couldn't stop smiles from appearing on their lips. She really couldn't blame them. If this were happening to someone else, she was certain that it would be hilarious.

There was a brief struggle while Miley stood up and forcibly retrieved the cloth covering from Jake's grasp. Once she had accomplished that task, she hastily covered the wreath with a cloth. This action caused the surrounding group to murmur their disapproval, a sound Miley countered by waving her hands as though dispersing a cloud of unwanted vapors while saying, "Yeah, yeah. Go about your business. There's nothing to see here, people."

After the crowd dispersed, Miley heavily sat back down on her chair and rounded on Jake. Recognizing the look in her eyes as a dangerous one, Jake did the best he could to protect his moneymaker: both of his hands shooting up to cover his face. Instead of the physical slap he expected, Miley spat out, "How could you do something so stupid?"

"I thought it was a thoughtful and romantic gesture," whined Jake, his hands slowly, cautiously moving back down to his sides. "I mean, my character did the same thing in Zombie State, and he got the girl in the end."

From across the table, Oliver's voice shot out, "This isn't one of your stupid movies, Jake." There was a lull in the conversation as all of the eyes at the table directed themselves at Oliver. Although his face reddened slightly at the attention, he continued to aim its annoyed expression in Jake's direction.

As Jake was the one being challenged, it was only fitting that he be the one to break the silence. His surprised expression transforming into a small smirk, Jake said in an apologetic tone, "Look, Oliver. I'm really sorry to say this, but this conversation doesn't concern you."

Oliver leaned forward slightly as he answered, "Actually, it does concern me." In a direct imitation of Lilly, he nodded his head after each word as though explaining things to a small child as he continued, "You see, you just embarrassed one of my best friends."

All apology dropped from Jake's voice as he aggressively muttered, "Yeah, whatever, man." His face then turned towards Miley's, his voice picking up a tone of sincerity as it said, "Miley, we've danced around this issue enough to know that we're made for each other."

"More like you've broken up enough to know that you're not made for each other," countered Oliver, again drawing surprised expressions from the occupants of the table. At first, Oliver wondered why they all looked so surprised that he had spoken, but he came to realize that while he had held these thoughts from the beginning of Miley's relationship with Jake, it was the first time he was actually voicing them; and it felt good.

"Hey, Oken. You're really starting to get on my nerves," said Jake, finally turning his entire body towards Oliver.

Unfazed by the superstar's change in posture, Oliver stated, "You've been on mine for a long time now."

"You wanna take this outside or something?" asked Jake, the small smirk returning to his lips.

Miley interrupted the stockpiling of adrenaline and testosterone by standing up suddenly and slamming her hands down on the table. Ignoring the attention this drew from the surrounding lunch tables, she forcefully commanded, "Stop already! You're acting like an idiot!"

When Jake looked up to Miley to apologize he noticed a couple of unexpected things. The first was that her face was a particularly cute shade of bright red. As Hannah Montana, Miley was used to being closely scrutinized by the cold, artificial eye of the media. Drawing a few gazes from nearby high school students wouldn't have this effect on her. The second was that she hadn't been addressing him at all with her outburst. Her eyes were fixed directly on Oliver.

Jake realized with a start that he was fighting a losing battle at the moment, so it would be best to retreat and regroup. Standing up next to Miley, he allowed himself to tower over her for a few seconds. He knew she liked that fact that he was taller than her. Finally, once he was sure he at least had her attention, he said, "We'll talk about this later when you're not so distracted, Miley."

As Jake began to walk away, he was pleasantly surprised to hear Miley call out, "Wait, Jake!"

Turning around with a big grin on his face, he asked, "Yes, Miley?" He immediately regretted that he did not turn around before grinning. The girl's arms were crossed tightly against her chest, and her face was still displaying extreme signs of annoyance.

"Don't forget to take that," commanded Miley, her left hand indicating the covered wreath without moving from its nestled position in the crook of her right arm. Jake complied silently, but as he was removing the object from the table, he caught Oliver's eye. After sending a haughty smirk at Oliver, he marched away, wreath in hand.

Once Jake had retreated from the lunch table, Miley finally sat back down. She then focused on letting out all of her frustration and tension with a couple of deep breaths before returning to her lunch. Oliver's attention went back to his cheeseburger, but his mind was concentrated on the last non-verbal message sent by Jake before he had left. Meanwhile, Lilly tried to piece together the puzzle that her friends had dumped in her lap. Why did she suddenly feel so out of the loop?

And thus the teens spent the quietest lunch in their long history together.

* * *

Author's Note: No reviews for the last chapter. I really didn't expect that, considering it was probably the most Moliver heavy chapter of the story so far, meaning that we're finally moving towards the original aim of this story: a love triangle. This leads me to a few possible conclusions. One possibility is that my readers are expecting some form of excellence from my writing that was not displayed in the previous chapter. Another is that my remaining readers are all Loliver fans, and affronted by my sneak attack on their ship. And the last is that I frightened away my reviewers with the now invisible author's rant of a couple chapters previous. 

If it's the former two, there really isn't anything I can do about it. I set out to write this story with certain goals in mind using my particular style of writing, and I'm not planning to sway from either of those two aims. If it's the last, however, I feel I must apologize. I didn't mean it as an attack against criticism or reviews, only against claims without proper backing by people who refuse to reveal themselves for proper discussion.

Also, I wanted to make sure that the readers knew that when I started writing again about a week ago, the first chapter I added is now in the position of Chapter 5, not 8. I only bring this up because it makes me suspicious when that addition hasn't received more hits overall than the chapters surrounding it, a sign that my warning may have been missed by some.

And lastly, as I did in chapters previous, but have neglected to do recently, I would like to thank the reader for getting this far in the story. It's finally almost to the point where I can start fleshing out scenes I had imagined when I started typing it out, and I'm pretty excited.


End file.
